-It's not a poem and I didn't write it, lol. The original writer just wants opinions and a rating of 1-10 on it. She and her friend wrote this. I think it's pretty creative with a good choice of word play that somewhat makes alittle sense and they didn't give it a title.
(I personally give it a 7.) as I told her she should share, so she now wants it to be rated. lol.
The skies are pale blue, the grass flows free.
The wind blows soft and the mermaids roam the sea.
Such a fantasy, such a fake.
But if you imagine, it's yours to take.
Dream up a world, one you can control.
Don't get carried away, try to keep hold.
In your mind, you let your brush paint a picture, slow, there's no rush.
In your world, time stands still.
More then enough so your picture can fulfil.
Your train of thoughts will never end, more and more of the pretend.
You use it all to the max, going down different tracks.
You go one way, then you travel another.
It's so hard to choose when you're the creator.
Paint the past, paint the present, create your future, it's all in your hands.I Give it a 1. It's corny and poorly written.
To the good Its not a OMG My BF/GF is wonderful/ terrible type poem that is so typical of this site. It is
a thoughtful and somewhat entertaining piece.
Now to the Negative Control/hold does not really work
The following line while it has good interior rhyme can't be broken into two lines anywhere and as a result just stands out
You need a line break between end and more
another and creator don't rhyme at all and the last line rhymes with nothing.
Tell her to keep trying
When I started some of my work was awful ie. instead of saying I smile in one early poem I put
a smile comes upon my face. yeech.
Rating 5
-
2011年8月4日星期四
Do you know who wrote this poem? I kind of like it.?
-The mystery of your perfume
Its gentle tendrils touch my brain
There can remain
No remnant of my former gloom
My candle in the night
You chase the shadows, leaving me in light.
Redeemed, I see your radiant face
My goddess from beyond the veil
And my words fail;
You lift me to a better place.
And yet my heart is numb
My love, because you said you could not come.
I see you in the golden shafts
That warm a lazy afternoon
And know that soon
The somber hues of other crafts
Will be put on display,
And what was flecked with gold will go to gray.
The grave is cold, and youth must bend,
The weight of life too much to bear.
O鈥?hand of care
Dressed in a sleeve no one can mend,
You give to take away.
'Tis cruelty to love what cannot stay.Well, it is what is known as a madrigal, and they have been written in many ages, and they can take several distinct forms. I have written in this form, but it is not mine. Not much help, I'm afraid... Escobar, perhaps you wrote it and are testing the poets. It's a nice poem, if that is the case.Well it's not very good at any rate. Don't search too hard for the "author" -- quotes intentional.
Its gentle tendrils touch my brain
There can remain
No remnant of my former gloom
My candle in the night
You chase the shadows, leaving me in light.
Redeemed, I see your radiant face
My goddess from beyond the veil
And my words fail;
You lift me to a better place.
And yet my heart is numb
My love, because you said you could not come.
I see you in the golden shafts
That warm a lazy afternoon
And know that soon
The somber hues of other crafts
Will be put on display,
And what was flecked with gold will go to gray.
The grave is cold, and youth must bend,
The weight of life too much to bear.
O鈥?hand of care
Dressed in a sleeve no one can mend,
You give to take away.
'Tis cruelty to love what cannot stay.Well, it is what is known as a madrigal, and they have been written in many ages, and they can take several distinct forms. I have written in this form, but it is not mine. Not much help, I'm afraid... Escobar, perhaps you wrote it and are testing the poets. It's a nice poem, if that is the case.Well it's not very good at any rate. Don't search too hard for the "author" -- quotes intentional.
Is this peom good?????
-I was tieing your shoe , when all of a sudden you turned blue , when you fell to the ground , i screamed but there was no sound ,and now when i speak i sound like a freak , because that day when i tied your shoe , you died at the age of twoThe first time I read it I didn't get it.
Now I do and I'm depressed. Jesus. Not really good in a technical sense, but it got an emotion out of me so...well done? I hope to God this isn't a true story.
Advice: Chagce second or third line. You start both with "when", which isn't good.
natural talent
its okay check spelling-i think that tying is spelled incorrectly.
its okay but try my country poem named "pantun" or old poem
if you can make only 1 then you a genius
Now I do and I'm depressed. Jesus. Not really good in a technical sense, but it got an emotion out of me so...well done? I hope to God this isn't a true story.
Advice: Chagce second or third line. You start both with "when", which isn't good.
natural talent
its okay check spelling-i think that tying is spelled incorrectly.
its okay but try my country poem named "pantun" or old poem
if you can make only 1 then you a genius
What do you think of this wistful poem by Cafavy?
-Constantine P. Cafavy, modern Greek poet. Words so simple but they capture moods perfectly.
Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time's gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
who could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has been haunting me, reminding me
of shut scented rooms,
of past passion - what daring passion.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer there.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people,
of the dead so little recognized.
Half past twelve: how the time has gone by.
Half past twelve: how the years have gone by.
Constantine P. CavafyI will have to read more .
Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time's gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
who could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has been haunting me, reminding me
of shut scented rooms,
of past passion - what daring passion.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer there.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people,
of the dead so little recognized.
Half past twelve: how the time has gone by.
Half past twelve: how the years have gone by.
Constantine P. CavafyI will have to read more .
Poem about Domestic Abuse - What do you think?
-Hey
So it's not finished yet and it's not that good
But what's your opinion anyways? :)
Once a day and once a night,
The man who shares his blight in spite,
Fight,
You play a knight,
Deceiving to the innocent's sight,
My death warrant you write it,
Sign it and seal it,
Reveal it,
Your heart made of Ironite,
You're my ******* kryptonite,
Bleed it,
Breathe it,
Your tongue; you've never bitten it,
My day; you never brighten it,
You made your bed so sleep in it,
The boat you keel it,
Free it,
Free your hatred somewhere else,
Who can love the man who kills?
Even when the heat does still,
My heart no longer fills,
There is no love and only hate,
You chose your fate,
You chose your fate,
Paranoid,
Stupid boy,
Just 'cause she's the perfect puppet toy,
Daddy's girl,
You make my toes curl,
That rock you hurl,
**** you, girl
But still,
My heart it doesn't fill,
I only ever want to kill,
Blood,
I feel it bead in tiny buds,
Blood,
Blood,
I want the floor to flood,
Sad,
Bad,
You're the one who's mad,
You're not my Dad,
You're undeserving,
You say she's starving,
The presence of you; it's so unnerving,
Biased,
Liars,
Only after your own desires,
Pliers,
Your hands chopped off with the rusty pliers,
Wires,
Electrocuted when hands touch wires,
I want you dead,
Daddy's girl to find you in your bed,
Not even breathing,
Just please be leaving,
You're evil,
Just plain deceitful,
She gave me a mouthful,
A fistful,
Your existence makes it risk-full,
All yours words are bull,
I always feel like a fool,
Hopeful,
Never hopeful,
Until you die,
I won't be hopeful,
In the end though,
It wasn't enough,
Even after I burned all of your stuff,
My stomach churned,
Into you; everything turned,
I hope you burn; I hope you rot,
After all of the hatred you showed and taught,
I scream a lot,
There is no one to tame these thoughts,
My worst nightmare,
Created to scare,
Tear,
Tear me apart,
And I stare,
Into your darkened lair,
I don't want to become you,
If I do; that day I'll rueI think you should get this published, it's amazing! :DI think is good. : )
So it's not finished yet and it's not that good
But what's your opinion anyways? :)
Once a day and once a night,
The man who shares his blight in spite,
Fight,
You play a knight,
Deceiving to the innocent's sight,
My death warrant you write it,
Sign it and seal it,
Reveal it,
Your heart made of Ironite,
You're my ******* kryptonite,
Bleed it,
Breathe it,
Your tongue; you've never bitten it,
My day; you never brighten it,
You made your bed so sleep in it,
The boat you keel it,
Free it,
Free your hatred somewhere else,
Who can love the man who kills?
Even when the heat does still,
My heart no longer fills,
There is no love and only hate,
You chose your fate,
You chose your fate,
Paranoid,
Stupid boy,
Just 'cause she's the perfect puppet toy,
Daddy's girl,
You make my toes curl,
That rock you hurl,
**** you, girl
But still,
My heart it doesn't fill,
I only ever want to kill,
Blood,
I feel it bead in tiny buds,
Blood,
Blood,
I want the floor to flood,
Sad,
Bad,
You're the one who's mad,
You're not my Dad,
You're undeserving,
You say she's starving,
The presence of you; it's so unnerving,
Biased,
Liars,
Only after your own desires,
Pliers,
Your hands chopped off with the rusty pliers,
Wires,
Electrocuted when hands touch wires,
I want you dead,
Daddy's girl to find you in your bed,
Not even breathing,
Just please be leaving,
You're evil,
Just plain deceitful,
She gave me a mouthful,
A fistful,
Your existence makes it risk-full,
All yours words are bull,
I always feel like a fool,
Hopeful,
Never hopeful,
Until you die,
I won't be hopeful,
In the end though,
It wasn't enough,
Even after I burned all of your stuff,
My stomach churned,
Into you; everything turned,
I hope you burn; I hope you rot,
After all of the hatred you showed and taught,
I scream a lot,
There is no one to tame these thoughts,
My worst nightmare,
Created to scare,
Tear,
Tear me apart,
And I stare,
Into your darkened lair,
I don't want to become you,
If I do; that day I'll rueI think you should get this published, it's amazing! :DI think is good. : )
Anyone know E.E. Cummings?
-1. What is a whereling and a wheneling? Is it a desirable thing to be?
2. What is the alternative to being "daughters of ifbut offspring of hopefear?
3. What does this poem have to do with time and timeless? What are some details?
4. Why are the whycoloured worlds of because? Who inhabits them?
2. What is the alternative to being "daughters of ifbut offspring of hopefear?
3. What does this poem have to do with time and timeless? What are some details?
4. Why are the whycoloured worlds of because? Who inhabits them?
Could someone interpret this? I do not know what the author means?
-I am about to break a commandment. Or maybe not..either way I'm sure God would not be pleased with what I am about to write.
God, The Supreme Being, Him, Mr. Alpha and Omega made one mistake that will forever haunt the human species until the day we are finally wept out and replaced by another species (My money is on a type of fish..). God's biggest mistake was that he made beautiful people. Where are these beautiful people? They are everywhere. They are your everyday run of the mill people. They go about their day..unaware of the conflict they bring the world. They are the ones who look at you weirdly when you look at them weirdly. They are the people that people want to know. They are the people no one actually knows.
These people ironically live life as if they were ugly and are therefore unaware of how beautiful they really are. Looking at these people I am left with one question " Who are they and why are they looking at me weirdly?"
______________________________________鈥?br>
It really makes no sense to me.
God, The Supreme Being, Him, Mr. Alpha and Omega made one mistake that will forever haunt the human species until the day we are finally wept out and replaced by another species (My money is on a type of fish..). God's biggest mistake was that he made beautiful people. Where are these beautiful people? They are everywhere. They are your everyday run of the mill people. They go about their day..unaware of the conflict they bring the world. They are the ones who look at you weirdly when you look at them weirdly. They are the people that people want to know. They are the people no one actually knows.
These people ironically live life as if they were ugly and are therefore unaware of how beautiful they really are. Looking at these people I am left with one question " Who are they and why are they looking at me weirdly?"
______________________________________鈥?br>
It really makes no sense to me.
Has a key ever stopped working on your keyboard?
-This is humorous . But Maybe I have the wrong category?
My L stopped working and my husband did surgery on it.
So we tested it on youtube.
We typed in Lyle Lovett,
LLCool J and of course,
Loretta Lynn.
as you can see - it is fine now!
I never realized how much difference one letter makes in our words!!You fogot Llllllovechild!!!!!And Koye Llllllotte! Once my 'Q' spontaneously ejected itself from my keyboard and flew accross the room. Any uestions? LOLSurprisingly- no. Because I beat the expletives out of Mine !!
my space bar quit working once. you can imagine what that was like, imgladyougotyourLback!
yes it was m c e q lol it pisses me off when that happens but its kinda funny at the same time.
My L stopped working and my husband did surgery on it.
So we tested it on youtube.
We typed in Lyle Lovett,
LLCool J and of course,
Loretta Lynn.
as you can see - it is fine now!
I never realized how much difference one letter makes in our words!!You fogot Llllllovechild!!!!!And Koye Llllllotte! Once my 'Q' spontaneously ejected itself from my keyboard and flew accross the room. Any uestions? LOLSurprisingly- no. Because I beat the expletives out of Mine !!
my space bar quit working once. you can imagine what that was like, imgladyougotyourLback!
yes it was m c e q lol it pisses me off when that happens but its kinda funny at the same time.
Feedback on these poems?
-These are three of what i think are my best works, please let me know what you think. :)
Girl from the Moon
Girl from the moon, eyes shining so brightly,
Her skin, pale like mist, white like milk.
Her soft footsteps tread so very lightly,
Her white blond hair, soft like sweet silk.
Heir to a dying kingdom, still so young;
Vibrant, youthful, a pure beauty.
To a life and world she once knew she clung,
But to no avail; she had a duty.
A father, one she never even knew,
A mother, burdened with despair.
That poor sweet girl, she didn't have a clue,
That she was tangled in such an affair.
Broken and battered, she sat on the throne,
A task far too difficult for a child.
Rapidly and joylessly had she grown,
It was a rare moment when she smiled.
Next one doesn't have a name, it's a spell.
Our world is bound by two powerful forces.
Sun, to warm our hearts and light the day,
Moon, to brighten the night and chase the demons away,
Never one without the other, the ultimate duet,
Together they make a gorgeous silhouette.
They sing their joyful song in perfect harmony,
Their sweet voices melding in holy matrimony.
Lux tenebra!
Drifting away
Tetrameter
You drifted away, leaving me,
Wasting and withering away.
Your eyes reflected a dead sea,
What we might have done, with a day.
The last one is not my favorite, but let me know what you think! Tips, suggestions, critiques, anything :)You've written great poetry.
The last one is not bad as you think. It's short but has a deep message of the effect of eternal time. It's simple but excellent in expression.
'Girl from the moon' has some great imagery portrayed beautifully something like an unforgettable dream.
The second poem concluded with two wonderful pair of lines:
"They sing their joyful song in perfect harmony,
Their sweet voices melding in holy matrimony. " , in total harmony with the these two lines,
"Sun, to warm our hearts and light the day,
Moon, to brighten the night and chase the demons away"
You're a sculptor of powerful images in poetry.hey great stories. this is poems I would like to learn an d write like.
Girl from the Moon
Girl from the moon, eyes shining so brightly,
Her skin, pale like mist, white like milk.
Her soft footsteps tread so very lightly,
Her white blond hair, soft like sweet silk.
Heir to a dying kingdom, still so young;
Vibrant, youthful, a pure beauty.
To a life and world she once knew she clung,
But to no avail; she had a duty.
A father, one she never even knew,
A mother, burdened with despair.
That poor sweet girl, she didn't have a clue,
That she was tangled in such an affair.
Broken and battered, she sat on the throne,
A task far too difficult for a child.
Rapidly and joylessly had she grown,
It was a rare moment when she smiled.
Next one doesn't have a name, it's a spell.
Our world is bound by two powerful forces.
Sun, to warm our hearts and light the day,
Moon, to brighten the night and chase the demons away,
Never one without the other, the ultimate duet,
Together they make a gorgeous silhouette.
They sing their joyful song in perfect harmony,
Their sweet voices melding in holy matrimony.
Lux tenebra!
Drifting away
Tetrameter
You drifted away, leaving me,
Wasting and withering away.
Your eyes reflected a dead sea,
What we might have done, with a day.
The last one is not my favorite, but let me know what you think! Tips, suggestions, critiques, anything :)You've written great poetry.
The last one is not bad as you think. It's short but has a deep message of the effect of eternal time. It's simple but excellent in expression.
'Girl from the moon' has some great imagery portrayed beautifully something like an unforgettable dream.
The second poem concluded with two wonderful pair of lines:
"They sing their joyful song in perfect harmony,
Their sweet voices melding in holy matrimony. " , in total harmony with the these two lines,
"Sun, to warm our hearts and light the day,
Moon, to brighten the night and chase the demons away"
You're a sculptor of powerful images in poetry.hey great stories. this is poems I would like to learn an d write like.
What's your opinion of this poem?
-"It seems your inching under, sir, inching slowly under
But what it is you're inching in I cannot help but wonder."
Oh booming voice up in the clouds, to speak cuts like a knife
I'm simpley inching into death, while inching out of life.
"You're wrong, you poor deluded boy, True Death's up here with me.
Hell's dungeons boil below you, child, Eternal Agony!"
Oh climb down off your shitheep, oh fiend hid in the sky
You're Lucifer! The Great Deceiver! Your word is but a lie
You will not fool me anymore with your wrath and rolling thunder.
It's god that stands behind my wheel and inches me now under.
The bog it yawned and pulled me down, my body trussed in chains
And Satan sighed, shook his head and played harp amoungst the flames.
"It's he'll up here in heaven too, for all that that is worth.
Heaven is just a lie of mine to make it hell on earth.
I received mixed reactions to my last poem (Golden Mean) so I thought I'd put this one up. Tell me what you think of it. Does this one "need work" too?
But what it is you're inching in I cannot help but wonder."
Oh booming voice up in the clouds, to speak cuts like a knife
I'm simpley inching into death, while inching out of life.
"You're wrong, you poor deluded boy, True Death's up here with me.
Hell's dungeons boil below you, child, Eternal Agony!"
Oh climb down off your shitheep, oh fiend hid in the sky
You're Lucifer! The Great Deceiver! Your word is but a lie
You will not fool me anymore with your wrath and rolling thunder.
It's god that stands behind my wheel and inches me now under.
The bog it yawned and pulled me down, my body trussed in chains
And Satan sighed, shook his head and played harp amoungst the flames.
"It's he'll up here in heaven too, for all that that is worth.
Heaven is just a lie of mine to make it hell on earth.
I received mixed reactions to my last poem (Golden Mean) so I thought I'd put this one up. Tell me what you think of it. Does this one "need work" too?
Can someone help me figure out the theme of this poem!?
-Even the Smallest Paradise
CJ Evans
The women in pencil 鈥╯kirts spill from towers
and let down all 鈥╰heir disarming hair.
They hold caramel 鈥╣lasses of whiskey
with sweet vermouth 鈥╝s men with undone
cuffs speak something 鈥╯ecretive into the felt-
lined boxes of their 鈥╡ars. The thunder
of planes is ignored, 鈥╝nd the four o'clock
flowers are fully 鈥╫pen. Their laughter
is a siren, echoing 鈥╝mong the buildings.
And they don't look 鈥╝s the white parachutes
drift down to them 鈥╨ike dandelion seeds.One of the best poems I've read. It's beauuuuuutiful (elongate the beautiful lol).
I'm terrible at reading into poetry, but I'm guessing the theme is that you can interpret life the way you want. They mention glasses (seeing out of, you can choose to see life the way you want); mentioning ignoring the roaring planes, but laughing out loud.
Amazing poem, I think I'm wrong on my interpretation, but ugh! I'm going to reread this many times :) Thanks for sharing!
This poem is published at http://poems.com/poem.php?date=15164
The theme: Mortality
It is a beautiful and very sad poem. Even the 'smallest paradise' of young joyful office workers can be snatched away. The white parachutes make me think of the paper drifting down from the towers on 9/11 as do the sirens and thundering planes.
The theme sounds like the liberation of a country, maybe about WWII when France was liberated from Germany.
The theme is my butthole.
CJ Evans
The women in pencil 鈥╯kirts spill from towers
and let down all 鈥╰heir disarming hair.
They hold caramel 鈥╣lasses of whiskey
with sweet vermouth 鈥╝s men with undone
cuffs speak something 鈥╯ecretive into the felt-
lined boxes of their 鈥╡ars. The thunder
of planes is ignored, 鈥╝nd the four o'clock
flowers are fully 鈥╫pen. Their laughter
is a siren, echoing 鈥╝mong the buildings.
And they don't look 鈥╝s the white parachutes
drift down to them 鈥╨ike dandelion seeds.One of the best poems I've read. It's beauuuuuutiful (elongate the beautiful lol).
I'm terrible at reading into poetry, but I'm guessing the theme is that you can interpret life the way you want. They mention glasses (seeing out of, you can choose to see life the way you want); mentioning ignoring the roaring planes, but laughing out loud.
Amazing poem, I think I'm wrong on my interpretation, but ugh! I'm going to reread this many times :) Thanks for sharing!
This poem is published at http://poems.com/poem.php?date=15164
The theme: Mortality
It is a beautiful and very sad poem. Even the 'smallest paradise' of young joyful office workers can be snatched away. The white parachutes make me think of the paper drifting down from the towers on 9/11 as do the sirens and thundering planes.
The theme sounds like the liberation of a country, maybe about WWII when France was liberated from Germany.
The theme is my butthole.
What do you think of my Poem? Could you please comment?
-I'll be one deep forever- forever I'll be one deep,
I have no friends when im awake no wife when im asleep,
the statements that I put in ink are undoubtedly true,
I wish for things to be different and hope for heaven too,
I wonder why I was born- dont understand it at all,
im sitting by the phone waiting for Jesus Christ to call,
I smile when I think of leaving this earthly shell behind,
im sad when I think of this world 'cause it's no home of mine,
destined to be alone nobody really hears my tone,
I understand its all in vain thats why my tears are shown,
although I don't want me to live -- it seems that God does,
and so I keep on struggling although its a constant trudge,
never had anyone to love well acquainted with sorrow,
I pray for transition but things will be the same tomorrow,
heres hoping I lay down tonight and never get back up,
its getting old and to the point where enough is enough.I think this is the best one you've put up. I noticed that there were some lines similar to (or the same as) ones in your other poems. I don't think this is anything particularly special (but then again, you didn't like my one so maybe we just have a difference in taste). I will continue to read what you put up (if for no other reason than to keep an eye on my competition, jokes). On that note you should look at the one I just put up.
Its absolutely sublime ! Well done :D
I have no friends when im awake no wife when im asleep,
the statements that I put in ink are undoubtedly true,
I wish for things to be different and hope for heaven too,
I wonder why I was born- dont understand it at all,
im sitting by the phone waiting for Jesus Christ to call,
I smile when I think of leaving this earthly shell behind,
im sad when I think of this world 'cause it's no home of mine,
destined to be alone nobody really hears my tone,
I understand its all in vain thats why my tears are shown,
although I don't want me to live -- it seems that God does,
and so I keep on struggling although its a constant trudge,
never had anyone to love well acquainted with sorrow,
I pray for transition but things will be the same tomorrow,
heres hoping I lay down tonight and never get back up,
its getting old and to the point where enough is enough.I think this is the best one you've put up. I noticed that there were some lines similar to (or the same as) ones in your other poems. I don't think this is anything particularly special (but then again, you didn't like my one so maybe we just have a difference in taste). I will continue to read what you put up (if for no other reason than to keep an eye on my competition, jokes). On that note you should look at the one I just put up.
Its absolutely sublime ! Well done :D
Wdyt of the poem i just wrote?
---So close, yet, so far
Ain't it bizarre
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Unspoken commitment
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman,
She's now Mrs. Truman--
Please just constructive criticism...if your gonna be a jerk just move on.That's marvelous the way you have constructed it! Maybe extend the middle a little but other then that its tremendous! I promise I will give thumbs down to any bad comments :). Good work!
Diamonds answer is terrific :)It's good...maybe you could add some words that can help me visualize the proposal actually happening..like describing the guy getting on one bended knee and the woman's hand shaking and her crying and being a nervous emotional wreck......you know stuff like that....proposals are really intense and most girls dream of this moment...and most guys are scared of this moment because of the rejection factor.
REALLY REALL GOOD. I am a upcoming rapper, and i like the use of metaphors and the vOcab was amazing. 9/10
PLEASE ANSWER MINE, ITS ABOUT RAP/POETRY
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhnR8n.wdV0JO5AqEdFQaCMM_dw4;_ylv=3?qid=20110710031520AAljuRa
If you are asking if it's a good high school English class poem, heck yes it is!
If you're asking if it's any good compared to actual poetry, not even close.
sounds like a song and good job
I have to say it's quite original but you might want to look over the second line in the first stanza.
Ain't it bizarre
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Unspoken commitment
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman,
She's now Mrs. Truman--
Please just constructive criticism...if your gonna be a jerk just move on.That's marvelous the way you have constructed it! Maybe extend the middle a little but other then that its tremendous! I promise I will give thumbs down to any bad comments :). Good work!
Diamonds answer is terrific :)It's good...maybe you could add some words that can help me visualize the proposal actually happening..like describing the guy getting on one bended knee and the woman's hand shaking and her crying and being a nervous emotional wreck......you know stuff like that....proposals are really intense and most girls dream of this moment...and most guys are scared of this moment because of the rejection factor.
REALLY REALL GOOD. I am a upcoming rapper, and i like the use of metaphors and the vOcab was amazing. 9/10
PLEASE ANSWER MINE, ITS ABOUT RAP/POETRY
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhnR8n.wdV0JO5AqEdFQaCMM_dw4;_ylv=3?qid=20110710031520AAljuRa
If you are asking if it's a good high school English class poem, heck yes it is!
If you're asking if it's any good compared to actual poetry, not even close.
sounds like a song and good job
I have to say it's quite original but you might want to look over the second line in the first stanza.
Aesthetics vs. Politics in Poetry?
-I'm a literature undergrad and have not much experience (I'm practically a novice) when it comes to poetry. My professor assigned me to discuss aesthetics and politics in poetry and which is the precedence between the two. He recommended that I look up on essays written by poets (T.S. Eliot to be precise).
The problem is I'm not sure how he means about 'politics' (I've already got aesthetics covered). From what I've researched, it refers to the poet's stand on issues such as men vs. women, gay vs. straight, etc. and how they project these stands on their work. I'm not quite sure, however.
If anyone can suggest essays or quotes, etc. particularly from well-known poets concerning this issue, it would be an enormous help.
Thank you.yer
The problem is I'm not sure how he means about 'politics' (I've already got aesthetics covered). From what I've researched, it refers to the poet's stand on issues such as men vs. women, gay vs. straight, etc. and how they project these stands on their work. I'm not quite sure, however.
If anyone can suggest essays or quotes, etc. particularly from well-known poets concerning this issue, it would be an enormous help.
Thank you.yer
How does the poem night of the scorpion appeal to all the senses of the readers?
-Date of submission 11th july!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! word limit 300 words! please help have to give it tomorrow!!!!!!!!! please help!!
Can you judge this short thing i wrote for me?
-I haven't had a dream like this before. The kind of dream were you can experience
what feels like a lifetime in a mater of moments. I was in a meadow and there
was a frigid wind that blow into my eyes. I lay under a tree, spread out as if i
had been dozed off there for sometime. My eyes were heavy but i managed to hold
them open as i climbed to my feet. I was a bit drowsy from some headache i was
suffering from. Where was I? I'm not quite sure but i knew from the looks of it
i wasn't alone. Walking to me was a man, he was no doubt unusual. He had a
left arm that was longer than his right, a mask made of silk decorated of white
on the left half and black on its opposite. He had an endless black robe that
came all the way to cover his feet.
For some odd reason this encounter didn't seem as worse than asking a girl
out. He stood before me now. Suddenly fear had taken hold of me. He started to raise his
hands up to his mask. After that he begin to take it off. When it was away from his face, for
a reason i didn't know of, I knelt on my knees with my head in my hands and i screamed in horrific bursts of anger, which came randomly. Everything around us was dying. The tree i was under had limbs falling around me. When the grass began to die leaves were airborne, none falling to the ground because the winds had picked up, some ashing away into the air before they even had contact to the ground. I was screaming, which was uncontrollably in that instant.Dream unfolds,never like before
a meadow, frozen- moments froze
frigid wind blows, live warns
black robes, canes, scare me
Who am I, Hell, who am I?
Eh, it would be average without all the grammatical errors. As it is, it just sounds like someone trying to sound smarter than they actually are.
s
I like the concept, the idea behind this piece, but you can revise this and make it better
If you like writing poetry, you should check out the Poetry Castle-- http://www.fliprap.com/forumdisplay.php?鈥?/a>
It's a website where you can post your poems, get and give feedback, join online poetry battles, meet other writers, become a part of a great community, join poetry exercise forums, and discussions. You'll love it there. Invite a friend to join with u if you want.
"He started to raise his
hands up to his mask. After that he begin to take it off. When it was away from his face, for
a reason i didn't know of, I knelt on my knees with my head in my hands and i screamed in horrific bursts of anger, which came randomly. Everything around us was dying. The tree i was under had limbs falling around me. When the grass began to die leaves were airborne, none falling to the ground because the winds had picked up, some ashing away into the air before they even had contact to the ground. I was screaming, which was uncontrollably in that instant."
All that imagery was interesting, I like dark stuff like that. I really got a good picture from this. I also like the line where you say his left arm is longer than his right. With my OCD that would bother me really badly, but I imagined looking at him, and it would look like the right side of him -- that arm would be longer (since that would be his left arm, but my right) so that helps :)
I like it.
what feels like a lifetime in a mater of moments. I was in a meadow and there
was a frigid wind that blow into my eyes. I lay under a tree, spread out as if i
had been dozed off there for sometime. My eyes were heavy but i managed to hold
them open as i climbed to my feet. I was a bit drowsy from some headache i was
suffering from. Where was I? I'm not quite sure but i knew from the looks of it
i wasn't alone. Walking to me was a man, he was no doubt unusual. He had a
left arm that was longer than his right, a mask made of silk decorated of white
on the left half and black on its opposite. He had an endless black robe that
came all the way to cover his feet.
For some odd reason this encounter didn't seem as worse than asking a girl
out. He stood before me now. Suddenly fear had taken hold of me. He started to raise his
hands up to his mask. After that he begin to take it off. When it was away from his face, for
a reason i didn't know of, I knelt on my knees with my head in my hands and i screamed in horrific bursts of anger, which came randomly. Everything around us was dying. The tree i was under had limbs falling around me. When the grass began to die leaves were airborne, none falling to the ground because the winds had picked up, some ashing away into the air before they even had contact to the ground. I was screaming, which was uncontrollably in that instant.Dream unfolds,never like before
a meadow, frozen- moments froze
frigid wind blows, live warns
black robes, canes, scare me
Who am I, Hell, who am I?
Eh, it would be average without all the grammatical errors. As it is, it just sounds like someone trying to sound smarter than they actually are.
s
I like the concept, the idea behind this piece, but you can revise this and make it better
If you like writing poetry, you should check out the Poetry Castle-- http://www.fliprap.com/forumdisplay.php?鈥?/a>
It's a website where you can post your poems, get and give feedback, join online poetry battles, meet other writers, become a part of a great community, join poetry exercise forums, and discussions. You'll love it there. Invite a friend to join with u if you want.
"He started to raise his
hands up to his mask. After that he begin to take it off. When it was away from his face, for
a reason i didn't know of, I knelt on my knees with my head in my hands and i screamed in horrific bursts of anger, which came randomly. Everything around us was dying. The tree i was under had limbs falling around me. When the grass began to die leaves were airborne, none falling to the ground because the winds had picked up, some ashing away into the air before they even had contact to the ground. I was screaming, which was uncontrollably in that instant."
All that imagery was interesting, I like dark stuff like that. I really got a good picture from this. I also like the line where you say his left arm is longer than his right. With my OCD that would bother me really badly, but I imagined looking at him, and it would look like the right side of him -- that arm would be longer (since that would be his left arm, but my right) so that helps :)
I like it.
Will you read my poem (Howling)? (Thank you!)?
-[Howling]
The wolf of Pindos Forest has an insightful assertion
not an uncultured death-making, of values, immersion
decisively his mandragora enthralls an animal right
something that lives in the electrons of a dark light.
(One who builds a house on sticks may have a cause
to be his friend, because his genuine soul will fight
when worthiness visits any threshold of hurt souls
the wolf will howl in night, for any over-crossed right.)
Howls the wolf, the night, a blanket silently covers
the sounds submerge, as the shadows become alive
a howling in full moon, his company of sounds gathers
prayers, a howling, as quietness austerely subsides.
Howls the wolf, the night, a dominion of crimson shed
awakes, a destiny of the forest thirsty rules attained
the wolf will run, and run, as a Plutonian kingdom wed
to catch, and catch a carnal mortised joint suspended
a second caress on alive skin, shudders, his cynodon
submerges, verterbrae crushing, crimson, cynodont
clade, crimson, a howling-supercilious, a forest abandon
all freezes in horror, a maenad deity of arterial bonds
He runs, he runs, covering the miles like fire, his impiety
as the folliage shudders waiting, exceeding, transfusion
of life's isotropy, an impertinent role, of dim superiority
as Crimson rules, itches in his veins to taste this infusion.
--------------------------------------鈥?br>
Pindos = A large mountain chain in Northern Greece
Plutonian = Pluto, brother of Zeus, the ruler of Hades
the underworld.
cynodon = Greek, the dog tooth
cynodont = vertebrate animal clade
isotropy = uniformity in all directions
mandragora = a plant with purplish flowers. It was thought
to have mystical powers, it is identified to the Moira of fate,
destiny, that rules our live's length. Medical, lethal in overdose,
atropine derives from its root.'something that lives in the electrons of a dark light.'<<< I once used the name Dark Light as a misnomer also a song by H.I.M. one of my favorites
'Howls the wolf, the night, a blanket silently covers
the sounds submerge, as the shadows become alive
a howling in full moon, his company of sounds gathers
prayers, a howling, as quietness austerely subsides.'>>>the imagery is great as well as the imagined audials that accompany Wolf, I saw heard and felt the slinking shadow-shapes
'a second caress on alive skin, shudders, his cynodon
submerges, verterbrae crushing, crimson, cynodont
clade, crimson, a howling-supercilious, a forest abandon
all freezes in horror, a maenad deity of arterial bonds'
>>>This is a perfect way to describe transformatin or shapeshift of wolf to man
and here is the HOWLING song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLSpj7q6_鈥?/a>Nice realistic poem!
Kind of scary. I'm glad it's still light out where I am...
Good mornin,
I enjoyed this, even I dint understand some of it but love that you bring the Wolf so strongly into the piece, and since I have a Wolf, I wanted to read this. Plus thank you for the lesson at th end. I like when you do that.
I'll tell you what , a lot of the words are not familiar to me I think Gio goes under the name armourer of the Gods and lives in his language . now I'm lost in thought as I'm thinking of you as a wolf man
the night has fallen and its still light, I hear the Wolf howling loaded with titles , with imposing names owulf-man your making me frightened now LOl ..:)
something that lives in the electrons of a dark light...( this is great .).
Thank you Gio
The wolf of Pindos Forest has an insightful assertion
not an uncultured death-making, of values, immersion
decisively his mandragora enthralls an animal right
something that lives in the electrons of a dark light.
(One who builds a house on sticks may have a cause
to be his friend, because his genuine soul will fight
when worthiness visits any threshold of hurt souls
the wolf will howl in night, for any over-crossed right.)
Howls the wolf, the night, a blanket silently covers
the sounds submerge, as the shadows become alive
a howling in full moon, his company of sounds gathers
prayers, a howling, as quietness austerely subsides.
Howls the wolf, the night, a dominion of crimson shed
awakes, a destiny of the forest thirsty rules attained
the wolf will run, and run, as a Plutonian kingdom wed
to catch, and catch a carnal mortised joint suspended
a second caress on alive skin, shudders, his cynodon
submerges, verterbrae crushing, crimson, cynodont
clade, crimson, a howling-supercilious, a forest abandon
all freezes in horror, a maenad deity of arterial bonds
He runs, he runs, covering the miles like fire, his impiety
as the folliage shudders waiting, exceeding, transfusion
of life's isotropy, an impertinent role, of dim superiority
as Crimson rules, itches in his veins to taste this infusion.
--------------------------------------鈥?br>
Pindos = A large mountain chain in Northern Greece
Plutonian = Pluto, brother of Zeus, the ruler of Hades
the underworld.
cynodon = Greek, the dog tooth
cynodont = vertebrate animal clade
isotropy = uniformity in all directions
mandragora = a plant with purplish flowers. It was thought
to have mystical powers, it is identified to the Moira of fate,
destiny, that rules our live's length. Medical, lethal in overdose,
atropine derives from its root.'something that lives in the electrons of a dark light.'<<< I once used the name Dark Light as a misnomer also a song by H.I.M. one of my favorites
'Howls the wolf, the night, a blanket silently covers
the sounds submerge, as the shadows become alive
a howling in full moon, his company of sounds gathers
prayers, a howling, as quietness austerely subsides.'>>>the imagery is great as well as the imagined audials that accompany Wolf, I saw heard and felt the slinking shadow-shapes
'a second caress on alive skin, shudders, his cynodon
submerges, verterbrae crushing, crimson, cynodont
clade, crimson, a howling-supercilious, a forest abandon
all freezes in horror, a maenad deity of arterial bonds'
>>>This is a perfect way to describe transformatin or shapeshift of wolf to man
and here is the HOWLING song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLSpj7q6_鈥?/a>Nice realistic poem!
Kind of scary. I'm glad it's still light out where I am...
Good mornin,
I enjoyed this, even I dint understand some of it but love that you bring the Wolf so strongly into the piece, and since I have a Wolf, I wanted to read this. Plus thank you for the lesson at th end. I like when you do that.
I'll tell you what , a lot of the words are not familiar to me I think Gio goes under the name armourer of the Gods and lives in his language . now I'm lost in thought as I'm thinking of you as a wolf man
the night has fallen and its still light, I hear the Wolf howling loaded with titles , with imposing names owulf-man your making me frightened now LOl ..:)
something that lives in the electrons of a dark light...( this is great .).
Thank you Gio
Who is the author of this poem?
-Hey :)
Well I was looking for poems about love for an assignment and I came across this poem:
Her Beauty
My pen hath not the ink,
Nor my mind the wit,
To capture here in verse by my hand,
Her Beauty I behold.
Light from an endless star filled sky,
Her eyes.
Countless summer's warm gentle breeze,
Her whisper.
A thousand crystal cool mountain streams,
Her kiss.
Miles of pure white sand beach,
Her smile.
Wave after wave of crashing crimson tide,
Her passion.
Ranges of majestic snow capped mountains,
Her strength.
Deepest and widest of dark blue oceans,
Her love.
All of Creation itself fails to compare,
In the entire depth of Universe,
No single being past or now resides,
Her Beauty I behold.
I need two poems which deal with the same theme, and the theme I've chosen is the forms of her beauty, but I can't find the author of the poem above. Please help ASAP! Thanks a heap!As a juxtaposition try also..........
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)
by William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.It is beautiful. I'm glad I finally found it.
Her Beauty
My pen hath not the ink,
Nor my mind the wit,
To capture here in verse by my hand,
Her Beauty I behold.
Light from an endless star filled sky,
Her eyes.
Countless summer's warm gentle breeze,
Her whisper.
A thousand crystal cool mountain streams,
Her kiss.
Miles of pure white sand beach,
Her smile.
Wave after wave of crashing crimson tide,
Her passion.
Ranges of majestic snow capped mountains,
Her strength.
Deepest and widest of dark blue oceans,
Her love.
All of Creation itself fails to compare,
In the entire depth of Universe,
No single being past or now resides,
Her Beauty I behold.
Trevor P. Fikkert
http://www.best-quotes-poems.com/herbeau鈥?/a>
Check this source for other poems about "her beauty"
http://www.helium.com/knowledge/159783-p鈥?/a>
.
Well I was looking for poems about love for an assignment and I came across this poem:
Her Beauty
My pen hath not the ink,
Nor my mind the wit,
To capture here in verse by my hand,
Her Beauty I behold.
Light from an endless star filled sky,
Her eyes.
Countless summer's warm gentle breeze,
Her whisper.
A thousand crystal cool mountain streams,
Her kiss.
Miles of pure white sand beach,
Her smile.
Wave after wave of crashing crimson tide,
Her passion.
Ranges of majestic snow capped mountains,
Her strength.
Deepest and widest of dark blue oceans,
Her love.
All of Creation itself fails to compare,
In the entire depth of Universe,
No single being past or now resides,
Her Beauty I behold.
I need two poems which deal with the same theme, and the theme I've chosen is the forms of her beauty, but I can't find the author of the poem above. Please help ASAP! Thanks a heap!As a juxtaposition try also..........
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)
by William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.It is beautiful. I'm glad I finally found it.
Her Beauty
My pen hath not the ink,
Nor my mind the wit,
To capture here in verse by my hand,
Her Beauty I behold.
Light from an endless star filled sky,
Her eyes.
Countless summer's warm gentle breeze,
Her whisper.
A thousand crystal cool mountain streams,
Her kiss.
Miles of pure white sand beach,
Her smile.
Wave after wave of crashing crimson tide,
Her passion.
Ranges of majestic snow capped mountains,
Her strength.
Deepest and widest of dark blue oceans,
Her love.
All of Creation itself fails to compare,
In the entire depth of Universe,
No single being past or now resides,
Her Beauty I behold.
Trevor P. Fikkert
http://www.best-quotes-poems.com/herbeau鈥?/a>
Check this source for other poems about "her beauty"
http://www.helium.com/knowledge/159783-p鈥?/a>
.
Wdyt of the poem i just wrote?
---So close, yet, so far
Ain't it bizarre
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Unspoken commitment
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman,
She's now Mrs. Truman--
Please just constructive criticism...if your gonna be a jerk just move on.That's marvelous the way you have constructed it! Maybe extend the middle a little but other then that its tremendous! I promise I will give thumbs down to any bad comments :). Good work!
Diamonds answer is terrific :)It's good...maybe you could add some words that can help me visualize the proposal actually happening..like describing the guy getting on one bended knee and the woman's hand shaking and her crying and being a nervous emotional wreck......you know stuff like that....proposals are really intense and most girls dream of this moment...and most guys are scared of this moment because of the rejection factor.
REALLY REALL GOOD. I am a upcoming rapper, and i like the use of metaphors and the vOcab was amazing. 9/10
PLEASE ANSWER MINE, ITS ABOUT RAP/POETRY
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhnR8n.wdV0JO5AqEdFQaCMM_dw4;_ylv=3?qid=20110710031520AAljuRa
If you are asking if it's a good high school English class poem, heck yes it is!
If you're asking if it's any good compared to actual poetry, not even close.
sounds like a song and good job
I have to say it's quite original but you might want to look over the second line in the first stanza.
Ain't it bizarre
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Unspoken commitment
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman,
She's now Mrs. Truman--
Please just constructive criticism...if your gonna be a jerk just move on.That's marvelous the way you have constructed it! Maybe extend the middle a little but other then that its tremendous! I promise I will give thumbs down to any bad comments :). Good work!
Diamonds answer is terrific :)It's good...maybe you could add some words that can help me visualize the proposal actually happening..like describing the guy getting on one bended knee and the woman's hand shaking and her crying and being a nervous emotional wreck......you know stuff like that....proposals are really intense and most girls dream of this moment...and most guys are scared of this moment because of the rejection factor.
REALLY REALL GOOD. I am a upcoming rapper, and i like the use of metaphors and the vOcab was amazing. 9/10
PLEASE ANSWER MINE, ITS ABOUT RAP/POETRY
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhnR8n.wdV0JO5AqEdFQaCMM_dw4;_ylv=3?qid=20110710031520AAljuRa
If you are asking if it's a good high school English class poem, heck yes it is!
If you're asking if it's any good compared to actual poetry, not even close.
sounds like a song and good job
I have to say it's quite original but you might want to look over the second line in the first stanza.
What should I write a poem about?
-Don't just say what your heart tells you too because it's not telling me nothing lol . Give me some good ideas please and detailedWrite a poem about unrequited love and use the imagery of a dying birch tree in the fall. Use a melancholy tone and make sure the voice of the speaker is frustrated. Make it a haiku
My advise: Poetry is not simple, if you wish to follow it at a college level, that is. It's difficult to write literature based on someone else's emotions and imagery because everyone has a set style and everyone has strengths and weaknesses. A poem like this would be simple for me because I am the one who designed it, however, it may be difficult for you because perhaps you haven't a clue what haiku means. My point: it's a better idea to stick with your own ideas than using someone else's.
Aha, not going to tell you "what your heart tells you to". But I am going to tell you that if you want to write a good poem you have to be able to figure out what to write it about by yourself. Otherwise it's not really completely yours, now is it?
Think, take a walk, read some other poems, look around you, watch people, close your eyes, listen to music... get some inspiration, it'll come to you sooner or later.
And good luck!
I began to warm and chill
To objects and their fields,
A ragged cup, a twisted mop
The face of Jesus in my soup
Those sinister dinner deals
The meal trolley's wicked wheels
A hooked bone rising from my food
And all things either good or ungood.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with all this weighing of the truth.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.
I hear stories from the chamber
Christ was born into a manger
And like some ragged stranger
He died upon the cross
Might I say it seems so fitting in its way
He was a carpenter by trade
Or at least that's what I'm told
My kill hand's tatooed E.V.I.L.
Across it's brother's fist
That filthy five!
They did nothing to challenge or resist.
In Heaven His throne is made of gold
The ark of his Testament is stowed
A throne from which I'm told
All history does unfold.
It's made of wood and wire
And my body is on fire
And God is never far away.
Into the mercy seat I climb
My head is shaved, my head is wired
And like a moth that tries
To enter the bright eye
I go shuffling out of life
Just to hide in death awhile
And anyway I never lied.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with all this weighing of the truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is burning
And I think my head is glowing
And in a way I'm hoping
To be done with all this twisting of the truth.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
And anyway there was no proof
And I'm not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is glowing
And I think my head is smoking
And in a way I'm hoping
To be done with all these looks of disbelief.
A life for a life and a truth for a truth
And I've got nothing left to lose
And I'm not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is smoking
And I think my head is melting
And in a way that's helping
To be done with all this twisting of the truth.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
But I'm afraid I told a lie.
Not a monkey's bad breath..
===
You could replace a travelling..motion..
Like a monkey running in the trees..
The sunlight and the ocean..but never the breeze..
===
like a walk..
but its a energy level
like the wind
===
How to bring myself to the airy light
The wind and the height
a couple of waves..in the air
then a drifting beam thru a staring -left to be landing
but not on the way
the path and the landing
only without all the caring
its space on a dime
silvery and clean
button and cloth--left beside a stream
now just a mention..in some dream
how far I have gone..by beam and by leave
===
just thought that might work/
think of one of the worst experiences you ever had, now write about it
from the viewpoint of cat who has to only see your actions, don't tell us how you feel.
let us know if you do this, we want to see the results
the frst object you see?
Or
Your favourite place to visit
A smell you like
A word you find funny
Love
Person you like
A silly looking person/character
Animal
A poem coming from your idol's perspective. (how they feel when the crowd screams&grabs, presures, normal living, etc.)
If your hearts not telling you anything maybe its just not the time to write one or think about something that means alot to you (ex. friends, family)
A monkeys bad breathe
My advise: Poetry is not simple, if you wish to follow it at a college level, that is. It's difficult to write literature based on someone else's emotions and imagery because everyone has a set style and everyone has strengths and weaknesses. A poem like this would be simple for me because I am the one who designed it, however, it may be difficult for you because perhaps you haven't a clue what haiku means. My point: it's a better idea to stick with your own ideas than using someone else's.
Aha, not going to tell you "what your heart tells you to". But I am going to tell you that if you want to write a good poem you have to be able to figure out what to write it about by yourself. Otherwise it's not really completely yours, now is it?
Think, take a walk, read some other poems, look around you, watch people, close your eyes, listen to music... get some inspiration, it'll come to you sooner or later.
And good luck!
I began to warm and chill
To objects and their fields,
A ragged cup, a twisted mop
The face of Jesus in my soup
Those sinister dinner deals
The meal trolley's wicked wheels
A hooked bone rising from my food
And all things either good or ungood.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with all this weighing of the truth.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.
I hear stories from the chamber
Christ was born into a manger
And like some ragged stranger
He died upon the cross
Might I say it seems so fitting in its way
He was a carpenter by trade
Or at least that's what I'm told
My kill hand's tatooed E.V.I.L.
Across it's brother's fist
That filthy five!
They did nothing to challenge or resist.
In Heaven His throne is made of gold
The ark of his Testament is stowed
A throne from which I'm told
All history does unfold.
It's made of wood and wire
And my body is on fire
And God is never far away.
Into the mercy seat I climb
My head is shaved, my head is wired
And like a moth that tries
To enter the bright eye
I go shuffling out of life
Just to hide in death awhile
And anyway I never lied.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I'm yearning
To be done with all this weighing of the truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I'm not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is burning
And I think my head is glowing
And in a way I'm hoping
To be done with all this twisting of the truth.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
And anyway there was no proof
And I'm not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is glowing
And I think my head is smoking
And in a way I'm hoping
To be done with all these looks of disbelief.
A life for a life and a truth for a truth
And I've got nothing left to lose
And I'm not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is smoking
And I think my head is melting
And in a way that's helping
To be done with all this twisting of the truth.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
But I'm afraid I told a lie.
Not a monkey's bad breath..
===
You could replace a travelling..motion..
Like a monkey running in the trees..
The sunlight and the ocean..but never the breeze..
===
like a walk..
but its a energy level
like the wind
===
How to bring myself to the airy light
The wind and the height
a couple of waves..in the air
then a drifting beam thru a staring -left to be landing
but not on the way
the path and the landing
only without all the caring
its space on a dime
silvery and clean
button and cloth--left beside a stream
now just a mention..in some dream
how far I have gone..by beam and by leave
===
just thought that might work/
think of one of the worst experiences you ever had, now write about it
from the viewpoint of cat who has to only see your actions, don't tell us how you feel.
let us know if you do this, we want to see the results
the frst object you see?
Or
Your favourite place to visit
A smell you like
A word you find funny
Love
Person you like
A silly looking person/character
Animal
A poem coming from your idol's perspective. (how they feel when the crowd screams&grabs, presures, normal living, etc.)
If your hearts not telling you anything maybe its just not the time to write one or think about something that means alot to you (ex. friends, family)
A monkeys bad breathe
What is an easy form of poetry to write?
-I have to write a poem for my english course and it cannot be a haiku, so what other forms are easy to write?Although free verse lacks a formal structure and typically avoids rhyme, writing it WELL requires a certain amount of skill (and artistry). Any forms that employ rhyme are prone to sounding forced or "sing-songy," so you might want to consider blank verse (iambic pentameter unrhymed) instead.
Sonnets and villanelles have both structure and rhyme, thereby providing a framework within which to express ideas and emotions. Most of my poetry is written in one or another meter because it appeals to me and is easy to do. I have several villanelles; some posted here, some not.
I hope you find a style just right for you.Easy is free verse, but only because there are no structure rules. However that only means you have nothing to fall back on, the idea and the poem itself have to be good. Because you have no restrictions to blame.
Free Verse are my favorite. They don't have to rhyme and they don't have to be written in a certain type of format. If you do a free-verse though, i'd recommend you rhyme some words to make it more "catchy".
Obscure free verse is the way to go. It requires no talent, just vocabulary and confidence to make it "sound" deep. You'll find many examples here on this site.
Short form
Free verse of course is easy, you just write and no need for rhyme :)
Sonnets and villanelles have both structure and rhyme, thereby providing a framework within which to express ideas and emotions. Most of my poetry is written in one or another meter because it appeals to me and is easy to do. I have several villanelles; some posted here, some not.
I hope you find a style just right for you.Easy is free verse, but only because there are no structure rules. However that only means you have nothing to fall back on, the idea and the poem itself have to be good. Because you have no restrictions to blame.
Free Verse are my favorite. They don't have to rhyme and they don't have to be written in a certain type of format. If you do a free-verse though, i'd recommend you rhyme some words to make it more "catchy".
Obscure free verse is the way to go. It requires no talent, just vocabulary and confidence to make it "sound" deep. You'll find many examples here on this site.
Short form
Free verse of course is easy, you just write and no need for rhyme :)
What would yu do if I sent you this poem and we were friends?
-She WAS my friend and she's just to clingy.. I guess she didn't understand what it mean't; when she got the poem, she said. "Why won't you answer me?" Like really..? Okay, heres the poem.
I guess I see you, its about now.
Its awfully true, I wish I knew how.
You see me leave, you speak gently to me.
Please don't grieve; now I see.
Don't love me, not I.
You may plea, then wish to die.
Stare me in the soul, take my hand.
I must pay the toll, this isn't what I planned.
See you sobbing, you sit and stare.
Your hed throbbing, why do you care?
I shall mean nothing to you, not anymore.
My love is for two, I am just a chore.
To you only, I know its right.
Don't feel lonely, hold someone tight.
Just not me, I won't go on.
I shall fade a memory, my path has been drawn.
(Your name), I am sorry.hey! don't be harsh on her and call her clingy
she's just trying to say I'm sorry and chose the wrong poem
from what I see she doesn't really mean much to you, the friendship relation between you isn't really deep, she's done something stupid, she regrets what she's done, and now she's trying to fix it
so here's what.. I don't say that you should treat her as your best friend, but just forgive her and that's it .. no one is perfect
Emotional. You are good. I hope you join the poetry castle
If you like writing poetry, you should check out the Poetry Castle-- http://www.fliprap.com/forumdisplay.php?鈥?/a>
It's a website where you can post your poems, get and give feedback, join online poetry battles, meet other writers, become a part of a great community, join poetry exercise forums, and discussions. You'll love it there. Invite a friend to join with u if you want.
I would think you were a whiny passive aggressive girl and I'd look for new friends who didn't play your type of games.
It makes me think of the saying: It's not you, it's me.
I guess I see you, its about now.
Its awfully true, I wish I knew how.
You see me leave, you speak gently to me.
Please don't grieve; now I see.
Don't love me, not I.
You may plea, then wish to die.
Stare me in the soul, take my hand.
I must pay the toll, this isn't what I planned.
See you sobbing, you sit and stare.
Your hed throbbing, why do you care?
I shall mean nothing to you, not anymore.
My love is for two, I am just a chore.
To you only, I know its right.
Don't feel lonely, hold someone tight.
Just not me, I won't go on.
I shall fade a memory, my path has been drawn.
(Your name), I am sorry.hey! don't be harsh on her and call her clingy
she's just trying to say I'm sorry and chose the wrong poem
from what I see she doesn't really mean much to you, the friendship relation between you isn't really deep, she's done something stupid, she regrets what she's done, and now she's trying to fix it
so here's what.. I don't say that you should treat her as your best friend, but just forgive her and that's it .. no one is perfect
Emotional. You are good. I hope you join the poetry castle
If you like writing poetry, you should check out the Poetry Castle-- http://www.fliprap.com/forumdisplay.php?鈥?/a>
It's a website where you can post your poems, get and give feedback, join online poetry battles, meet other writers, become a part of a great community, join poetry exercise forums, and discussions. You'll love it there. Invite a friend to join with u if you want.
I would think you were a whiny passive aggressive girl and I'd look for new friends who didn't play your type of games.
It makes me think of the saying: It's not you, it's me.
This is my poem i wrote. Is it any good?
-i know its fake
but im scared to awake
to the burning ache
of this painful feeling
something that is not heeling
it hides in my chest
sitting and depressed
feeling possessed
unable to rest
is it stress?
am i a mess?
(its short lol i know!)omg ! i personally think thats amazinggg !! next dr seuss right there ! ;)Dig deeper. I'm a teen, too. 14. Try not telling the reader what you are talking about in the piece too quick. Like this,
- Feels unreal,
it must be.
A feeling nobody
is able to see.
Stressed,
yet doubtful about what I really feel.
Unable to identify what it is.
Most unfortunate, unable to heal.-
Something like that, you know. I wrote it too quick, couldn't think of anything. :P
no. it's not.
read walt whitman's leaves of grass
e.e. cummings
edgar allen poe
adrienne rich
that's good poetry.
i'm guessing you're barely a teen? you have time to improve.
Poems and all other need meaning. This is about you depressed. No inner meaning. You need to be able to read a poem and work out the true meaning of it rather than the layer on top.
No. Just no.
um it's very basic, i wouldn't say it's anything great..
It has no rhyme scheme...So, in that sense childish. But, It is very nice and it expresses you're feelings!
no.
but im scared to awake
to the burning ache
of this painful feeling
something that is not heeling
it hides in my chest
sitting and depressed
feeling possessed
unable to rest
is it stress?
am i a mess?
(its short lol i know!)omg ! i personally think thats amazinggg !! next dr seuss right there ! ;)Dig deeper. I'm a teen, too. 14. Try not telling the reader what you are talking about in the piece too quick. Like this,
- Feels unreal,
it must be.
A feeling nobody
is able to see.
Stressed,
yet doubtful about what I really feel.
Unable to identify what it is.
Most unfortunate, unable to heal.-
Something like that, you know. I wrote it too quick, couldn't think of anything. :P
no. it's not.
read walt whitman's leaves of grass
e.e. cummings
edgar allen poe
adrienne rich
that's good poetry.
i'm guessing you're barely a teen? you have time to improve.
Poems and all other need meaning. This is about you depressed. No inner meaning. You need to be able to read a poem and work out the true meaning of it rather than the layer on top.
No. Just no.
um it's very basic, i wouldn't say it's anything great..
It has no rhyme scheme...So, in that sense childish. But, It is very nice and it expresses you're feelings!
no.
Soooo my poem, alright or bad?
-The highway is empty-
but there you stand.
Right in the middle-
with your heart in your hand.
Your hair blowing in the wind-
across your face, but you see from afar.
Spotting what you've been wishing for.
a death wish-
a car.
You jump right in front of it-
and close your eyes.
You hit the ground-
and fail to rise.
Nobody will know-
nobody will care.
And the witnesses, the birds-
they wouldn't dare.
Your body lies-
in a puddle of rain.
Such beauty, such horror-
a brutal end to your pain.
I'll find your remains-
in a ditch near the road.
With a poppy between your ribs-
life yet grows, as you corrode.
title ideas? could i improve it? :)I really like the third stanza, but I'd recommend you change the ending. Describing the body as 'corroding' just doesn't sound right. It would be interesting to know the speaker's relationship to the dead man. Did he/she like him? It doesn't seem as though they did given the context, but adding more focus on their emotions will add a bit more depth.
but there you stand.
Right in the middle-
with your heart in your hand.
Your hair blowing in the wind-
across your face, but you see from afar.
Spotting what you've been wishing for.
a death wish-
a car.
You jump right in front of it-
and close your eyes.
You hit the ground-
and fail to rise.
Nobody will know-
nobody will care.
And the witnesses, the birds-
they wouldn't dare.
Your body lies-
in a puddle of rain.
Such beauty, such horror-
a brutal end to your pain.
I'll find your remains-
in a ditch near the road.
With a poppy between your ribs-
life yet grows, as you corrode.
title ideas? could i improve it? :)I really like the third stanza, but I'd recommend you change the ending. Describing the body as 'corroding' just doesn't sound right. It would be interesting to know the speaker's relationship to the dead man. Did he/she like him? It doesn't seem as though they did given the context, but adding more focus on their emotions will add a bit more depth.
Please critique the following poem?
-Just wanted to hear a couple of thoughts on the poem below.
I MAY HAVE GOTTEN THE WRONG IMPRESSION
My vision was exceeding;
But my mind knew not what it saw.
I thought I saw love in a handout
So I tried to re-gift it,
Handing it out like charity.
They retorted with puzzled stares,
Standing about without humor.
"You're not so bad," They'd say,
Laughing, as I asked for love,
Laughing, as I walked away.Assuming that is your picture. When I first saw your question I thought this would just be another one of those young kids that tosses some words down on paper and calls it a poem. Not the greatest of course but it is well written and the beats are fairly tight.
7
8
9
7
8
8
8
6
7
7
I wouldn't try to make it longer, this is just one poem. I think the best thing to do is to tighten up those beats a little more by adding words that say the same thing. Or changing them a little to tighten it up. The feeling is there but poems need to be worked with so they flow better.
I MAY HAVE GOTTEN THE WRONG IMPRESSION
My vision was exceeding;
But my mind knew not what it saw.
I thought I saw love in a handout
So I tried to re-gift it,
Handing it out like charity.
They retorted with puzzled stares,
Standing about without humor.
"You're not so bad," They'd say,
Laughing, as I asked for love,
Laughing, as I walked away.Assuming that is your picture. When I first saw your question I thought this would just be another one of those young kids that tosses some words down on paper and calls it a poem. Not the greatest of course but it is well written and the beats are fairly tight.
7
8
9
7
8
8
8
6
7
7
I wouldn't try to make it longer, this is just one poem. I think the best thing to do is to tighten up those beats a little more by adding words that say the same thing. Or changing them a little to tighten it up. The feeling is there but poems need to be worked with so they flow better.
Please critique my poem?
-She lived beside the waters edge, by grassy slopes and sand.聽She saw the sun and turned to run and took me by the hand.聽Forsake this earth she whispered near and I was glad to hear.聽For far from here, lives ne're a tear, just me and thee my dear.sounds like this could be a great chorus to a raspy singer's (like Adele or Mozella) song. Look up Mozella's "Life Is" and put that tune to these words......Great job. You could be a song writer! =)
Its like a song...I like it.
Its like a song...I like it.
What do you Think of this Poem opening?
-At school, we have to write a poem for this contest. Tell me what you think of this opening...
Diminishing Light;
Darkness Incarnate;
Dwindling Hope;
I see no light.
Lingering in the dark;
I sense the creeping... crawling in the mist;
Lurking, holding, breathing deep;
Solemn pain amidst the moonlit dark.
Ok, give me suggestions please! I just thought of it but I need some help! Thanks!I, personally, really like your opening. I like the fact that in the first stanza you are using two words a sentence, but very descriptive words. Reading this, I assume that your poem is about a difficult time in history.
I also admire how you are in a sense keeping us in the dark by not mentioning what it is that is
"Lingering in the dark", "crawling in the mist", and "Lurking, holding, breathing deep".
Overall, I would thirst to read the entire poem.where do high school students get words like incarnate? from a thesaurus, from a class poem?
it just doesn't work, it would be like using "thee" for you in your poems.
It is complete and worthy as it stands, in my opinion.I would like to see where it is leading! Keep going, it is good.
It seems like your trying to hard. Your putting in big words (and that good) but you still have to make it flow
i like it how it is,sounds really good.
Diminishing Light;
Darkness Incarnate;
Dwindling Hope;
I see no light.
Lingering in the dark;
I sense the creeping... crawling in the mist;
Lurking, holding, breathing deep;
Solemn pain amidst the moonlit dark.
Ok, give me suggestions please! I just thought of it but I need some help! Thanks!I, personally, really like your opening. I like the fact that in the first stanza you are using two words a sentence, but very descriptive words. Reading this, I assume that your poem is about a difficult time in history.
I also admire how you are in a sense keeping us in the dark by not mentioning what it is that is
"Lingering in the dark", "crawling in the mist", and "Lurking, holding, breathing deep".
Overall, I would thirst to read the entire poem.where do high school students get words like incarnate? from a thesaurus, from a class poem?
it just doesn't work, it would be like using "thee" for you in your poems.
It is complete and worthy as it stands, in my opinion.I would like to see where it is leading! Keep going, it is good.
It seems like your trying to hard. Your putting in big words (and that good) but you still have to make it flow
i like it how it is,sounds really good.
Could you analyze this bit of prose and/or c/c it?
-He liked his yard neat, and the windstorm had left unsightly debris in his yard. He opened the shed door to grab his rake but was startled; an animal had found a way inside and was making it clear he was
unwelcome. He hesitated just a second at the creature's fierce display; she was standing on her hind legs ready to fight to the death, daring him to come closer.
He quietly closed the door and decided he could wait to clean his yard; those babies would soon be grown and gone, along with their mother.
His wife found him sitting on the patio, staring at nothing. "Stay away from the shed," he warned her. "There's an animal inside, and... she's protecting her young."
The yard stayed unraked for just over a week, until the mouse and her babies moved on.
(True story; the names have been changed... Oh, wait, I didn't USE names.)sounds like a good time to have a good scotch
-- neatI like this very much! Forgive me if I am reading too much into things but it seems the man in this story is a father himself. He understands the animals need to "[protect] her young" and also sympathizes with her because he knows that her " babies would soon be grown and gone".
I think this is a very good piece, I might have said "He hesitated for a second" but that's just a matter of opinion.
Thanks for sharing.
It is delightful. The only thing I would suggest is that you remove the second use of yard in the first sentence. "In his yard" could be replaced with "there".
.
once was fixing a soffit on a house came across an owls
nest with 3 white baby owls, told the homeowner
I'll be back when the owls are grown and left the nest
you just don't mess with nature, bad karma...
I heard this story and I thought how animals are more protective of their young than humans these days...I did not like you using his yard twice in the first sentence twice,
that is all I have to say about it
Mouse!!! Iwas thinking raccoon! good stuff, K. 'staring at nothing'--lol...I could see the bamboo rake hanging just out of reach!
Mornin sis, a cute piece with a even cuter punch line, and yep I'd drop the last 3 words in the first sentence. Loved it though on all levels
Nice story. A man totally in tune with nature, sensitive. My type of guy. Well writ Kathy,
That is so darn sweet but if they wander into my kitchen it's off with their heads!
Very good , I don't no if I get it LOl .. but its a good litter story ;; Smiles
Since this is part of a story, I think it would read better if separated into paragraphs, as I have done here. I also include reasons for other changes I've made. (I hope you aren't displeased)
He liked his yard neat, but a recent windstorm left it strewn with unsightly debris. As he opened the shed door to grab his rake, he was startled; an animal had found its way inside and was making it clear [that] he was unwelcome. He hesitated momentarily at the creature's fierce display; standing on her hind legs, ready to fight to the death, she dared him to come closer.
He quietly closed the door, deciding he could wait to clean the yard; those babies would soon be grown and gone, along with their mother.
His wife found him sitting on the patio, staring at nothing. "Stay away from the shed," he warned. "There's an animal inside, and ... she's protecting her young."
The yard stayed unraked for just over a week, until the mouse and her babies moved on.
"but" vs. "and" 鈥?provides contrast
unnecessary repetition of "yard"
[that] 鈥?flows better (maybe)
"momentarily" vs. "just a second" 鈥?more succinct
"she was" 鈥?passive voice
"her" 鈥?unnecessary in that conversational context
Yep, just drop the last three words in the first sentence.
As long as they are outside in the shed - fine.
I had a terrible problem once - I was so soft-hearted (a criticism from many in my family) that I would not kill mice.
Then I moved to NY but kept our old place for when we came back.
Unbeknownst to me, my husband had left a 100 lb. bag of grain there for making beer.
When we came back there was 100lbs. of mouse poop and pee in the house.
I cleaned for three days on that tiny house.
I had to mop the walls.
When I was finished my nose was bleeding and I had a slight wheeze.
So - outside, shed, what have you. Fine
Inside - no dice.
But very nice story. Did I mention that before the incident I had no ill will toward mice?
He liked his yard neat, and the windstorm had left it strewn with unsightly debris. He opened the shed door to grab his rake but was startled; an animal had found a way inside and was making it clear he was unwelcome. He hesitated just a second at the creature's fierce display; she was standing on her hind legs ready to fight to the death, daring him to come closer.
He quietly closed the door and decided he could wait to clean his yard; those babies would soon be grown and gone, along with their mother.
His wife found him sitting on the patio, staring at nothing. "Stay away from the shed," he warned her. "There's an animal inside, and... she's protecting her young."
The yard stayed unraked for just over a week, until the mouse and her babies moved on.
***just a little change at the beginning, 'unsightly' seemed an appropriate word for someone with a neat yard. I like the way you played off the terror of a cornered animal against the harmlessness of a mouse.
unwelcome. He hesitated just a second at the creature's fierce display; she was standing on her hind legs ready to fight to the death, daring him to come closer.
He quietly closed the door and decided he could wait to clean his yard; those babies would soon be grown and gone, along with their mother.
His wife found him sitting on the patio, staring at nothing. "Stay away from the shed," he warned her. "There's an animal inside, and... she's protecting her young."
The yard stayed unraked for just over a week, until the mouse and her babies moved on.
(True story; the names have been changed... Oh, wait, I didn't USE names.)sounds like a good time to have a good scotch
-- neatI like this very much! Forgive me if I am reading too much into things but it seems the man in this story is a father himself. He understands the animals need to "[protect] her young" and also sympathizes with her because he knows that her " babies would soon be grown and gone".
I think this is a very good piece, I might have said "He hesitated for a second" but that's just a matter of opinion.
Thanks for sharing.
It is delightful. The only thing I would suggest is that you remove the second use of yard in the first sentence. "In his yard" could be replaced with "there".
.
once was fixing a soffit on a house came across an owls
nest with 3 white baby owls, told the homeowner
I'll be back when the owls are grown and left the nest
you just don't mess with nature, bad karma...
I heard this story and I thought how animals are more protective of their young than humans these days...I did not like you using his yard twice in the first sentence twice,
that is all I have to say about it
Mouse!!! Iwas thinking raccoon! good stuff, K. 'staring at nothing'--lol...I could see the bamboo rake hanging just out of reach!
Mornin sis, a cute piece with a even cuter punch line, and yep I'd drop the last 3 words in the first sentence. Loved it though on all levels
Nice story. A man totally in tune with nature, sensitive. My type of guy. Well writ Kathy,
That is so darn sweet but if they wander into my kitchen it's off with their heads!
Very good , I don't no if I get it LOl .. but its a good litter story ;; Smiles
Since this is part of a story, I think it would read better if separated into paragraphs, as I have done here. I also include reasons for other changes I've made. (I hope you aren't displeased)
He liked his yard neat, but a recent windstorm left it strewn with unsightly debris. As he opened the shed door to grab his rake, he was startled; an animal had found its way inside and was making it clear [that] he was unwelcome. He hesitated momentarily at the creature's fierce display; standing on her hind legs, ready to fight to the death, she dared him to come closer.
He quietly closed the door, deciding he could wait to clean the yard; those babies would soon be grown and gone, along with their mother.
His wife found him sitting on the patio, staring at nothing. "Stay away from the shed," he warned. "There's an animal inside, and ... she's protecting her young."
The yard stayed unraked for just over a week, until the mouse and her babies moved on.
"but" vs. "and" 鈥?provides contrast
unnecessary repetition of "yard"
[that] 鈥?flows better (maybe)
"momentarily" vs. "just a second" 鈥?more succinct
"she was" 鈥?passive voice
"her" 鈥?unnecessary in that conversational context
Yep, just drop the last three words in the first sentence.
As long as they are outside in the shed - fine.
I had a terrible problem once - I was so soft-hearted (a criticism from many in my family) that I would not kill mice.
Then I moved to NY but kept our old place for when we came back.
Unbeknownst to me, my husband had left a 100 lb. bag of grain there for making beer.
When we came back there was 100lbs. of mouse poop and pee in the house.
I cleaned for three days on that tiny house.
I had to mop the walls.
When I was finished my nose was bleeding and I had a slight wheeze.
So - outside, shed, what have you. Fine
Inside - no dice.
But very nice story. Did I mention that before the incident I had no ill will toward mice?
He liked his yard neat, and the windstorm had left it strewn with unsightly debris. He opened the shed door to grab his rake but was startled; an animal had found a way inside and was making it clear he was unwelcome. He hesitated just a second at the creature's fierce display; she was standing on her hind legs ready to fight to the death, daring him to come closer.
He quietly closed the door and decided he could wait to clean his yard; those babies would soon be grown and gone, along with their mother.
His wife found him sitting on the patio, staring at nothing. "Stay away from the shed," he warned her. "There's an animal inside, and... she's protecting her young."
The yard stayed unraked for just over a week, until the mouse and her babies moved on.
***just a little change at the beginning, 'unsightly' seemed an appropriate word for someone with a neat yard. I like the way you played off the terror of a cornered animal against the harmlessness of a mouse.
Another poem for you guys ?
-...there's not much meaning to this, i don't think...
to make the bad, good
to make the good, bad
to focuse the sidetracked
to sidetrack the focused
to loosen the tensed
to tense the loosened
to wobble the steady
to steady the wobbled
to heal the crippled, for i was one
to be a helping hand, for i had none
to be a teacher, although i'm too young
to be an inspiration, for i am not so smart
to be a hero, for i am a warning
to be a good friend, for mine are bad
to change your facial expression, for mine is sad
to put you first, cause i'm used to last
so i write for you. i'm not needed, nor wanted, but i'm here,
for you...It's one of those pieces that almost make the reader turn away (perhaps bored) but then it starts to gel and then gets better and better. The ending is quite brilliant. One of the best I've read here today.Sounds like a great brainstorming process. I would think the second half could be focussed into a meaningful piece.
to make the bad, good
to make the good, bad
to focuse the sidetracked
to sidetrack the focused
to loosen the tensed
to tense the loosened
to wobble the steady
to steady the wobbled
to heal the crippled, for i was one
to be a helping hand, for i had none
to be a teacher, although i'm too young
to be an inspiration, for i am not so smart
to be a hero, for i am a warning
to be a good friend, for mine are bad
to change your facial expression, for mine is sad
to put you first, cause i'm used to last
so i write for you. i'm not needed, nor wanted, but i'm here,
for you...It's one of those pieces that almost make the reader turn away (perhaps bored) but then it starts to gel and then gets better and better. The ending is quite brilliant. One of the best I've read here today.Sounds like a great brainstorming process. I would think the second half could be focussed into a meaningful piece.
What should I write a poem about to win a kids poem contest?
-the age is up to 14 so something appropiate
Will you read my poem (Howling)? (Thank you!)?
-[Howling]
The wolf of Pindos Forest has an insightful assertion
not an uncultured death-making, of values, immersion
decisively his mandragora enthralls an animal right
something that lives in the electrons of a dark light.
(One who builds a house on sticks may have a cause
to be his friend, because his genuine soul will fight
when worthiness visits any threshold of hurt souls
the wolf will howl in night, for any over-crossed right.)
Howls the wolf, the night, a blanket silently covers
the sounds submerge, as the shadows become alive
a howling in full moon, his company of sounds gathers
prayers, a howling, as quietness austerely subsides.
Howls the wolf, the night, a dominion of crimson shed
awakes, a destiny of the forest thirsty rules attained
the wolf will run, and run, as a Plutonian kingdom wed
to catch, and catch a carnal mortised joint suspended
a second caress on alive skin, shudders, his cynodon
submerges, verterbrae crushing, crimson, cynodont
clade, crimson, a howling-supercilious, a forest abandon
all freezes in horror, a maenad deity of arterial bonds
He runs, he runs, covering the miles like fire, his impiety
as the folliage shudders waiting, exceeding, transfusion
of life's isotropy, an impertinent role, of dim superiority
as Crimson rules, itches in his veins to taste this infusion.
--------------------------------------鈥?br>
Pindos = A large mountain chain in Northern Greece
Plutonian = Pluto, brother of Zeus, the ruler of Hades
the underworld.
cynodon = Greek, the dog tooth
cynodont = vertebrate animal clade
isotropy = uniformity in all directions
mandragora = a plant with purplish flowers. It was thought
to have mystical powers, it is identified to the Moira of fate,
destiny, that rules our live's length. Medical, lethal in overdose,
atropine derives from its root.I read your poem so many times 鈥? I feel restlessness come over me every time..
Pindos isn鈥檛 big enough to hold me 鈥?Im trapped鈥?. so is my spirit 鈥nd tormented soul..
Respect for man鈥ut anger and frustration in my soul鈥?I weight the balance of my inner feelings and passions with the rest of the world鈥?I am so powerful and yet at the same time powerless .
鈥︹€?A Wolf only kills to eat鈥 feel this wolf kills to exerts his power from the sheer force of frustrated, anger and impatience鈥e wants 鈥nd what he wants ..he fears he might not get 鈥o rule to triumph to be recognised as the majestic creature he was born to be鈥? he runs and he runs鈥nd he is searching鈥rom one corner of his world鈥?to the next,... himself tired out 鈥︹€?his soul still running鈥his wolf is nocturnal 鈥?and each time I read it there is more.
To sum up鈥?
鈥︹€︹€ts Beauty and the Beast鈥ut not the fairy tale鈥?br>
I love this poem鈥ne of my favourites from you鈥rilliant work Gio This poem made me feel at one with your beast..Hi Gio, I picked up some great visuals from this piece of poetry. That wolf howling in the moonlight certainly gave me the shivers.
That's pretty impressive. I saw little wolfie running among the hills, his tail on fire.
Ur poem isn't good, very poor quality.
Very nice! :) good use of Vocabulary..imagery..and a mix of rhyming schemes! :) a very enjoyable read!
The wolf of Pindos Forest has an insightful assertion
not an uncultured death-making, of values, immersion
decisively his mandragora enthralls an animal right
something that lives in the electrons of a dark light.
(One who builds a house on sticks may have a cause
to be his friend, because his genuine soul will fight
when worthiness visits any threshold of hurt souls
the wolf will howl in night, for any over-crossed right.)
Howls the wolf, the night, a blanket silently covers
the sounds submerge, as the shadows become alive
a howling in full moon, his company of sounds gathers
prayers, a howling, as quietness austerely subsides.
Howls the wolf, the night, a dominion of crimson shed
awakes, a destiny of the forest thirsty rules attained
the wolf will run, and run, as a Plutonian kingdom wed
to catch, and catch a carnal mortised joint suspended
a second caress on alive skin, shudders, his cynodon
submerges, verterbrae crushing, crimson, cynodont
clade, crimson, a howling-supercilious, a forest abandon
all freezes in horror, a maenad deity of arterial bonds
He runs, he runs, covering the miles like fire, his impiety
as the folliage shudders waiting, exceeding, transfusion
of life's isotropy, an impertinent role, of dim superiority
as Crimson rules, itches in his veins to taste this infusion.
--------------------------------------鈥?br>
Pindos = A large mountain chain in Northern Greece
Plutonian = Pluto, brother of Zeus, the ruler of Hades
the underworld.
cynodon = Greek, the dog tooth
cynodont = vertebrate animal clade
isotropy = uniformity in all directions
mandragora = a plant with purplish flowers. It was thought
to have mystical powers, it is identified to the Moira of fate,
destiny, that rules our live's length. Medical, lethal in overdose,
atropine derives from its root.I read your poem so many times 鈥? I feel restlessness come over me every time..
Pindos isn鈥檛 big enough to hold me 鈥?Im trapped鈥?. so is my spirit 鈥nd tormented soul..
Respect for man鈥ut anger and frustration in my soul鈥?I weight the balance of my inner feelings and passions with the rest of the world鈥?I am so powerful and yet at the same time powerless .
鈥︹€?A Wolf only kills to eat鈥 feel this wolf kills to exerts his power from the sheer force of frustrated, anger and impatience鈥e wants 鈥nd what he wants ..he fears he might not get 鈥o rule to triumph to be recognised as the majestic creature he was born to be鈥? he runs and he runs鈥nd he is searching鈥rom one corner of his world鈥?to the next,... himself tired out 鈥︹€?his soul still running鈥his wolf is nocturnal 鈥?and each time I read it there is more.
To sum up鈥?
鈥︹€︹€ts Beauty and the Beast鈥ut not the fairy tale鈥?br>
I love this poem鈥ne of my favourites from you鈥rilliant work Gio This poem made me feel at one with your beast..Hi Gio, I picked up some great visuals from this piece of poetry. That wolf howling in the moonlight certainly gave me the shivers.
That's pretty impressive. I saw little wolfie running among the hills, his tail on fire.
Ur poem isn't good, very poor quality.
Very nice! :) good use of Vocabulary..imagery..and a mix of rhyming schemes! :) a very enjoyable read!
Pleas help me I want names of poems with multiple meanings ?
-pleas help me I want names of poems with multiple meanings ?
thinksYou have to research them online. I think I saw a lot in the Poetry Castle in http://www.fliprap.com
thinksYou have to research them online. I think I saw a lot in the Poetry Castle in http://www.fliprap.com
Bad Luck---------------?
-Like a torment that comes and goes
my heart, pulverized by hatred
will it ever be reborn?
What is it that I truly want?
What is it that I need to know?
Will I ever feel joy? (again)
Torments come and go
she's just a ghost now
and I want to love someone elseCool, twas a poem? Twas good. :)
my heart, pulverized by hatred
will it ever be reborn?
What is it that I truly want?
What is it that I need to know?
Will I ever feel joy? (again)
Torments come and go
she's just a ghost now
and I want to love someone elseCool, twas a poem? Twas good. :)
How does my poem sound?
-No longer will I be in pain, or have to be alone
Because now I'm six feet under a black tombstone聽
When I was alive, I lived in a small shell
The world was cruel to me and gave me hell
I was not loved, the looked down on me
Because I was not gorgeous, I was ugly
They laughed at me, and made fun of my weight
This could have been stopped, but it was too late
The blood was everywhere, and my soul was free
No I can't be hurt, they had to let myself beFrom the standpoint of writing the poem has flaws(but don't come after me, I'm allergic to gunfire!) And besides everybody has flaws, what counts is how you deal with them. 2nd line "Because now I'm six feet under--under a black tombstone(flows better)5th line "I was not loved, they(spelling) looked down on me" 6th line Because I was not gorgeous, I was pretty(juxtaposition) ugly(and flows better)(again please don't come after me, I'm trying to help!)---You were on a roll but then line10 'No I can't be hurt, they had to let me be(sounds and flows better)--All in all not a bad emo effort, some promise here, but needs a title-- suggestion "Slewicide Note"---Keep Writing--wherever you are!-----------------william
I'm just astounded you got an internet connection six feet under.
A little scary dont you think?? Maybe make it more cheerfull? But, overall its GOOD and true and happens in life!!! Keep on writing poems! YOUR GOOD!
OMG IT'S AMAZING ;D but fix the first line in the 3rd stanza to "they" instead of "the". GREAT JOB THOUGH
Because now I'm six feet under a black tombstone聽
When I was alive, I lived in a small shell
The world was cruel to me and gave me hell
I was not loved, the looked down on me
Because I was not gorgeous, I was ugly
They laughed at me, and made fun of my weight
This could have been stopped, but it was too late
The blood was everywhere, and my soul was free
No I can't be hurt, they had to let myself beFrom the standpoint of writing the poem has flaws(but don't come after me, I'm allergic to gunfire!) And besides everybody has flaws, what counts is how you deal with them. 2nd line "Because now I'm six feet under--under a black tombstone(flows better)5th line "I was not loved, they(spelling) looked down on me" 6th line Because I was not gorgeous, I was pretty(juxtaposition) ugly(and flows better)(again please don't come after me, I'm trying to help!)---You were on a roll but then line10 'No I can't be hurt, they had to let me be(sounds and flows better)--All in all not a bad emo effort, some promise here, but needs a title-- suggestion "Slewicide Note"---Keep Writing--wherever you are!-----------------william
I'm just astounded you got an internet connection six feet under.
A little scary dont you think?? Maybe make it more cheerfull? But, overall its GOOD and true and happens in life!!! Keep on writing poems! YOUR GOOD!
OMG IT'S AMAZING ;D but fix the first line in the 3rd stanza to "they" instead of "the". GREAT JOB THOUGH
What do you think of this story my girlfriend wrote for me?
-For Russee, my one and only love. Heres the story :P * It felt like the happiest day of Jessica's life as her and Russell hastily shoved open the door, meeting each others eyes with a combination of love, and lust, and pure bliss. "I can't find the words to express how happy I am to have you!" Jessica said wiping back a tear. "Oh honey I'm so happy to have you too, I love you more than anything in the universe" They rushed up and held each other in the tightest hug, the roundness of her breast against his soft chest, the elongated stretch in his pants waiting to be inside her. She found her pee flower to feel warm but not with the "I've got a full tank and need to empty it" kinda feeling, but warmth of a different nature: this flip flopping fire passion kind of warm, which could be best satisfied right now by feeling him inside her. She brushed a glossy lock of his black hair out of his eyes pulling his face closer to hers. As their lips met, her anxious tongue wrapped around his-twirling and indulging in the taste of his mouth with bodies tingling and aching to unite, They knew that the decadant passion that awaited them was inevitable. Their clothes soon formed a colorful mass beneath their feet. His fingers explored her body, cupping breasts and settling on the curve of her backside, he pulled her buttocks close to smother his congcoo which he rubbed against her as she lay back in his arms. Jessi turned around and took his hand placing his finger in her mouth, which she gave a tight suck, then smiled and pushed it between her legs Then abruptly grabbing him by his curly black mop of hair and pressed his face to her love bush, which he devoured with the hunger of a wildcat "Aaooh" Jessi moaned as her honeys tongue explored and pleasured her peep "Oh yes!" she tugged on his hair and pushed him deeper into her love bush. "my turn" she said, kneeling over him and grasping his congcoo with both hands, she churned and pulled to elevate his pleasure, which was apparent and so big it could burst any time. She used her boobs to hold his penis as she took him in her mouth, and swirled her tongue around him sweetly, as if licking a candy pop. she pulled him closer and closer still to her kom chimb which resembled open petals wet with dew, her flower blooming just for him. His congcoo slid in with ease as he fit all of him inside her. After going so long without this feeling it took her breath away. It took her a second to realize that this was not a dream; that his congcoo was in her and they were making love at that exact moment. The bonding together as one. He was so big and she was so ready - embers of desire in her peep fed only by feeling him in there. She held his face to her bouncing breasts then he kissed them, sucking and biting her nipples gently. Every motion and tilt of her body she felt him deeper, clamping her chimby tightly to hold him in. Russell loved the way his honey was making his congcoo feel with every thrust and how Jessis hands clasped around his neck, rubbing his shoulders while her bubblegum lips teased and licked his nipples, he felt he would orgasm any second now. "I'm going to *** soon!" he gasped breathlessly, "No, no!" she cried out, as she placed two fingers on his shaft and squeezed lightly. "I want more!" she gripped him tightly and pulled him close as if to prevent losing even the slightest tidbit of this pleasure. Her lips parted and she moaned and cried out in ecstasy, the intense pleasure of her orgasm overwhelming her entire body, her legs became an iron grip around his waist. He scrunched his face and indulged in the pleasure of her body as a warm white liquid erupted from his rock hard member, filling every crevice of her insides, with more to spare which dripped out, decorating her pubic hair. Bodies intertwined, they laid together in a state of unimaginable happiness. Forever free to indulge in the infinite ecstasy of each other. "I hope I'm pregnant" she whispered "I know you already are" he said and leaned in for a kiss, the finishing touch to that magical, lusty and amorous night.
______________________________________鈥?br>
She just wrote it for me from jail and it touched my heart. Just thought I'd find out what you all think :)
______________________________________鈥?br>
She just wrote it for me from jail and it touched my heart. Just thought I'd find out what you all think :)
Could someone suggest a poem or reading that i could read out at my grandads funeral? he was in his late 80's?
-he had been a farmer all his life and has a very large familyI Did Not Die
Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn鈥檚 rain.
When you awaken in the morning鈥檚 hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
if you really want to read a poem, that really means something to you, to him, to your family, write it yourself! hope I helped! sorry to hear about your gramps <3
sorry i wish i could help, but i think a decision like that's gotta come from you!
did he have a favourite one?
Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn鈥檚 rain.
When you awaken in the morning鈥檚 hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
if you really want to read a poem, that really means something to you, to him, to your family, write it yourself! hope I helped! sorry to hear about your gramps <3
sorry i wish i could help, but i think a decision like that's gotta come from you!
did he have a favourite one?
What do you think of my new poem?
-I asked a few hours ago but I've edited it since then. It's inspired by my only brother and his soon-to-be fiancee.
--So close, yet, so far
Just wishing on a star
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Of spoken commitment
He gets on bended knee
Then asks, "Will you marry me?"
She cries out "yes!"
Then feels his caress
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman
She's now Mrs. Truman.--
Constructive criticism is encouraged but if you're going to be a jerk about it, move on.I agree with the other answer, you should read it at their wedding. :) I really like the first stanza; it could fit in with a lot of other subjects, but with the next one, you can tell what the subject is. You should try writing another one (because this one's great) that's more vague, and you have to use your head to figure out that it's about proposal. Best of luck!Miss Truman, I wish to the happy couple to become more than Platinum. Your writing is nice, careful, simple words, it is almost strange, but we do not see many "marriage proposal" poems in here. The only (maybe - possible) observation is upon the rhyme Truman - superhuman". So, it is "union". "Feeling their sacred union". It is much more human, and real. Nice...
The
I bet they can read it at the wedding its so good.
--So close, yet, so far
Just wishing on a star
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Of spoken commitment
He gets on bended knee
Then asks, "Will you marry me?"
She cries out "yes!"
Then feels his caress
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman
She's now Mrs. Truman.--
Constructive criticism is encouraged but if you're going to be a jerk about it, move on.I agree with the other answer, you should read it at their wedding. :) I really like the first stanza; it could fit in with a lot of other subjects, but with the next one, you can tell what the subject is. You should try writing another one (because this one's great) that's more vague, and you have to use your head to figure out that it's about proposal. Best of luck!Miss Truman, I wish to the happy couple to become more than Platinum. Your writing is nice, careful, simple words, it is almost strange, but we do not see many "marriage proposal" poems in here. The only (maybe - possible) observation is upon the rhyme Truman - superhuman". So, it is "union". "Feeling their sacred union". It is much more human, and real. Nice...
The
I bet they can read it at the wedding its so good.
Can someone give me a ballad by Samuel Taylor Coleridge?
-I really need it, a ballad!!
But please exempt The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan in your answer..A Christmas Carol
A Day-Dream
A Sunset.
A Thought Suggested By A View
Ad Vilmum Axiologum
Answer To A Child's Question
Catullian Hendecasyllables
Domestic Peace
Duty Surviving Self-Love
Encinctured With A Twine Of Leaves
Epitaph
Fancy In Nubibus
Hunting Song
Lewti (The Circassian Love-Chaunt)
Lines (Child of my muse! ... )
Lines To W. Linley, Esq.
Love
Love's First Hope
Moriens Superstiti
Morienti Superstes
Mutual Passion
Ode To Tranquillity
On A Cataract
On Observing A Blossom On The First Of February 1796
Phantom
Phantom or Fact
Recollections Of Love
Something Childish, But Very Natural.
Song
The Knight's Tomb
The Raven
The Visit Of The Gods
Thekla's Song
Time, Real And Imaginary
To a Young Lady
To Nature.
Translation of a Passage in Ottfried's Metrical Paraphrase of the Gospel
Water Ballad
Westphalian Song
What is Life?
Work Without Hope
Youth And Age
You can find the complete ballads here:
http://www.litscape.com/indexes/Samuel_T鈥?/a>
But please exempt The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan in your answer..A Christmas Carol
A Day-Dream
A Sunset.
A Thought Suggested By A View
Ad Vilmum Axiologum
Answer To A Child's Question
Catullian Hendecasyllables
Domestic Peace
Duty Surviving Self-Love
Encinctured With A Twine Of Leaves
Epitaph
Fancy In Nubibus
Hunting Song
Lewti (The Circassian Love-Chaunt)
Lines (Child of my muse! ... )
Lines To W. Linley, Esq.
Love
Love's First Hope
Moriens Superstiti
Morienti Superstes
Mutual Passion
Ode To Tranquillity
On A Cataract
On Observing A Blossom On The First Of February 1796
Phantom
Phantom or Fact
Recollections Of Love
Something Childish, But Very Natural.
Song
The Knight's Tomb
The Raven
The Visit Of The Gods
Thekla's Song
Time, Real And Imaginary
To a Young Lady
To Nature.
Translation of a Passage in Ottfried's Metrical Paraphrase of the Gospel
Water Ballad
Westphalian Song
What is Life?
Work Without Hope
Youth And Age
You can find the complete ballads here:
http://www.litscape.com/indexes/Samuel_T鈥?/a>
Random poem please comment! :)?
-You silly thing
spitting sarcasm
on my face -
corroding
fresh cuts
of humor
on flushed cheeks,
the suddenness
of this banter
how unprepared
i stand,
witty comebacks
sadly
not at hand.Oh, I hate being in that situation!
I admire your succinct words. I like your line breaks - with such few words you have conveyed that situation of chagrin and defeat.
But you know what - it is usually those sarcastic people who are smaller in spirit. In the long run - it shows itself.
Better to be big and generous of spirit. You are and that is the much better path.
There are two words however I hold in reserve for dire situations. One starts with an F and one starts with a Y. Sometimes you just have to bust 'em out. I also like to add the word "twice" after I have said these two words. Just in dire circumstances, mind you. Most of the time I am civilized. Oh - sorry about my mulltiple els. I am having a problem with it.
Smille to you! Cheer up!Some people enjoy showing sarcasm and mockery... unfortunately... Nice realistic poem!
don't really understand what it's about.
funny. I like it
spitting sarcasm
on my face -
corroding
fresh cuts
of humor
on flushed cheeks,
the suddenness
of this banter
how unprepared
i stand,
witty comebacks
sadly
not at hand.Oh, I hate being in that situation!
I admire your succinct words. I like your line breaks - with such few words you have conveyed that situation of chagrin and defeat.
But you know what - it is usually those sarcastic people who are smaller in spirit. In the long run - it shows itself.
Better to be big and generous of spirit. You are and that is the much better path.
There are two words however I hold in reserve for dire situations. One starts with an F and one starts with a Y. Sometimes you just have to bust 'em out. I also like to add the word "twice" after I have said these two words. Just in dire circumstances, mind you. Most of the time I am civilized. Oh - sorry about my mulltiple els. I am having a problem with it.
Smille to you! Cheer up!Some people enjoy showing sarcasm and mockery... unfortunately... Nice realistic poem!
don't really understand what it's about.
funny. I like it
POEM TIIIIIMMMEE!!!!!!! YAAAA :D?
-Heeeey i wrote 3 poems all about the same thing but i want to know witch one people think is the best. Can you please read them and tell me witch is your favorit and why? =D Thank you!!!!!
-JEALOUSY-(poem)
When i dig my two graves
Who says the second ones for me?
Because your not the one im after
You alone, is not enough
She's the one that started this
The one that made me cry
So when i dig my two graves
Who says they have to be together?
You two together is what started this whole mess
So the graves shall be far apart
Never to see each others faces
nor the light of day
-GOODBYE- (poem)
One day you'll see
That i was way better than she
But now you'll never know
'Cause im on the go
You'll go on, not finding the one
And then just quit, when your done
So i hope you'll be happy with her
'Cause shure,
Your happy now
But when you two brake-up
I wont say "wow"
-HAPPY NOW-(poem)
So now i know to go
But i just want to let you know
I'm really happy now
This is when you look at me in disgusts,
And say 'how?'
Well,
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to look at you everyday day,
just to say 'whats wrong now'
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to walk with you,
acting like i cared about what you said
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to stand their,
waiting in the middle of nowhere
So see?
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to deal with you
OH, can you not pick the one that rhymes only because it rhymes. Thank you :DI feel my favorite is the first one, JEALOUSY because it gives the most emotion in my opinion. it is the most beautiful because you feel the pain you felt when you wrote it and you feel your presence in it. It is just beautiful, as are all of them , but that is my favorite along with my second happy now.
GREAT JOB!!! YOU'RE TRULY AMAZING!!!!I had to read Happy now, i ain't got finished.It has no essence, but rhymes.First started sober to me, second childish, the last needs more passion and heart.It's pretty hard to become an artist, even to write some lyrics, keep trying, get your best to poetry.
I like the last one best I suppose. It was the least contradicting and made the most sense.
-JEALOUSY-(poem)
When i dig my two graves
Who says the second ones for me?
Because your not the one im after
You alone, is not enough
She's the one that started this
The one that made me cry
So when i dig my two graves
Who says they have to be together?
You two together is what started this whole mess
So the graves shall be far apart
Never to see each others faces
nor the light of day
-GOODBYE- (poem)
One day you'll see
That i was way better than she
But now you'll never know
'Cause im on the go
You'll go on, not finding the one
And then just quit, when your done
So i hope you'll be happy with her
'Cause shure,
Your happy now
But when you two brake-up
I wont say "wow"
-HAPPY NOW-(poem)
So now i know to go
But i just want to let you know
I'm really happy now
This is when you look at me in disgusts,
And say 'how?'
Well,
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to look at you everyday day,
just to say 'whats wrong now'
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to walk with you,
acting like i cared about what you said
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to stand their,
waiting in the middle of nowhere
So see?
I'm really happy now,
i dont have to deal with you
OH, can you not pick the one that rhymes only because it rhymes. Thank you :DI feel my favorite is the first one, JEALOUSY because it gives the most emotion in my opinion. it is the most beautiful because you feel the pain you felt when you wrote it and you feel your presence in it. It is just beautiful, as are all of them , but that is my favorite along with my second happy now.
GREAT JOB!!! YOU'RE TRULY AMAZING!!!!I had to read Happy now, i ain't got finished.It has no essence, but rhymes.First started sober to me, second childish, the last needs more passion and heart.It's pretty hard to become an artist, even to write some lyrics, keep trying, get your best to poetry.
I like the last one best I suppose. It was the least contradicting and made the most sense.
Why do you write poetry?
-I know it seems like a simple question, but I'm serious. If it's for expressing yourself or releasing emotions why not short stories or writing music?
I'm just curious, why did you guys choose poetry? Did you get introduced to it at a young age? In school?I didn't know myself up until a while ago. I had really think about it, because I myself have asked this question more than once.
I write because I am short and plain looking, I am smart but so are all my brothers. I am funny but so are all my brothers. I don't get into trouble but none of my brothers do either. My eldest brother was always known as the eldest, but he grew into the footballer and hard worker. My youngest as the baby in the family, he is growing to be a historian. I share the middle child title with my older brother. He was always an artist. I had nothing really, except a few words I could spin well. So now, even though the don't read anything, I am my family's poet/writer. It is honestly the only unique thing I don't have to work at, it seems to come naturally enough. I write poetry because I have to. Without it I don't really have an identity.
I wasn't taught it at school I didn't actually read a poem [besides nursery rhymes] until I went to secondary school [12/13 years old]. I wrote my first for a competition two years before that, and then I wrote my second a year after that for the same competition. Then I stopped [that was 5/6 years ago] and didn't write another until 7 or 8 months ago. I haven't really stopped much since then though. I have started writing my first prose piece but stuff keeps getting in the way :)I have been writing fiction since I was a child, and poetry at least since I was about 14 or 15. I wrote stories because I had something to say and a very strange imagination.
I admire great poetry (although not most "great" poets,) and although I suck at writing poetry, I keep trying. In Yahoo, I am well above average, so it feeds the illusion that I don't suck anymore, which energizes me to write more. When trolls and uncontrolled critics decide to trash me, it makes my day because they only criticize things that are successful.
I stopped writing fiction because after 40 years of writing I still sucked. Poetry fills the void of that 40 year vocation gone bad. Poetry means I haven't wasted 50 years of my life completely.
Just releasing emotions not expressing myself,
I've written stories before and music didn't like it quite well,
stories for me have to be long and music I'd rather sing then
write it down, I've always sang actually
I got introduced to it by one of my friends, she read me one of her poems
and I got inspired but didn't write anything down, from then on
I would go to this website called quizilla that had many poems as she told me
Then I was taking a shower and a poem came to me, when
I went to write it down it no longer was a poem, and was ruined it wasn't
how I wanted it in my eyes, the thought came too soon,
but I didn't give up on it, I posted up the poem and from then on
I just kept on writing...usually it's my observations and how I am feeling not
much expressing myself though
And sorry for this being so long, what about yourself?
And before I also did drawings gave up on that( was actually really good at it)..
now it's poems and video editing
Personally, I write poetry because it's a creative way to express myself. Stories takes too long for me to write and I find music to be really difficult to write. Being a writer, I find poetry to be easy and quick to write when I want to say what I need to say. For instance, during school, we had a literary magazine and I could either write a story or poem. I decided that I would write a poem about the Holocaust, since it's such a delicate subject and writing a story could be too long or I could word something that makes it sound insensitive. It ended up getting hugely praised and loved by everyone. But this is just my opinion.
I love poetry. Sometimes I read slowly just to savor the words the writer chose. I am a poet, but I am in a dry spell. I hear a line or two in my head, but I never sit and work with it. I'm hoping this will pass soon.
I love to feel the flow of words as if they are water streaming over a bed of rocks or the tide ebbing. I also enjoy the energy, when the words make my heart race. I connect to the emotions, and it is wonderful to read someones work that touches me, brings tears or laughter, or stays in my mind.
One of my poems "TO:" is on the internet and has been translated into several languages because it reaches people, and that brings joy to me.
.
I was a painter - mixed media - much graphite as well. I worked on my art for most of my life, obtained advanced degrees etc.
My art was catharsis for me and when an illness and medications robbed me of my thoughts and steady hand, I was desolate.
I had no way to express myself.
Then I found this section and began learning that I could use the words in my head to express memories, emotions, epiphanies.
I am not skilled - but it fills that overbearing void of losing my art.
Poetry is not my vocation - but for me, I can try to learn from others who do have that.
And it helps.
Many eons ago,i used to write letters to the editor.Everyone said they were good.
then i had a security job,sitting and boring.I can draw. Also.I started getting mad
at all the news i read or saw.It was when rap was starting.three people asked me to write some.
I did and they read them during some poetry nights.Darned if i would.I saved a lot.
Sometimes just tone them DOWN..for here. .thanks
When I began it was a case of being inspired by different writers and trying to emulate them I did not have my own voice I was imitation Emily Dickenson for example. As time went by I developed my style.
I try to take an experience and boil it down to the essence so that if I use the word I in my poem the reader thinks of himself .
I write poetry because I love the way it seem to fill my heart when I read it. I can not place my poetry to music in my head. I chose poetry in short because it makes me feel good to express the beauty of the world around me, and let my heart choose the rhythm and music:)
I enjoy writing, in whatever sense, and have been writing since I learned how.
Poetry is an intimate way to express.
Poetry is or can be, like pouring fluid
Poetry can involve all our senses
I just way enjoy readin it and writin it.
Expression is art :) Poetry is not just an art of words though; it's also the art of how we use words.
Because somebody has to do it. *pulls sunglasses down and walks into the sunset*
Simply to tell a story that I hope readers will enjoy. Nothing more, nothing less.
music is poetry, and that's what i write
It is cathartic therapy. Can't you see how well its worked?
Because is the language of the heart.
I'm just curious, why did you guys choose poetry? Did you get introduced to it at a young age? In school?I didn't know myself up until a while ago. I had really think about it, because I myself have asked this question more than once.
I write because I am short and plain looking, I am smart but so are all my brothers. I am funny but so are all my brothers. I don't get into trouble but none of my brothers do either. My eldest brother was always known as the eldest, but he grew into the footballer and hard worker. My youngest as the baby in the family, he is growing to be a historian. I share the middle child title with my older brother. He was always an artist. I had nothing really, except a few words I could spin well. So now, even though the don't read anything, I am my family's poet/writer. It is honestly the only unique thing I don't have to work at, it seems to come naturally enough. I write poetry because I have to. Without it I don't really have an identity.
I wasn't taught it at school I didn't actually read a poem [besides nursery rhymes] until I went to secondary school [12/13 years old]. I wrote my first for a competition two years before that, and then I wrote my second a year after that for the same competition. Then I stopped [that was 5/6 years ago] and didn't write another until 7 or 8 months ago. I haven't really stopped much since then though. I have started writing my first prose piece but stuff keeps getting in the way :)I have been writing fiction since I was a child, and poetry at least since I was about 14 or 15. I wrote stories because I had something to say and a very strange imagination.
I admire great poetry (although not most "great" poets,) and although I suck at writing poetry, I keep trying. In Yahoo, I am well above average, so it feeds the illusion that I don't suck anymore, which energizes me to write more. When trolls and uncontrolled critics decide to trash me, it makes my day because they only criticize things that are successful.
I stopped writing fiction because after 40 years of writing I still sucked. Poetry fills the void of that 40 year vocation gone bad. Poetry means I haven't wasted 50 years of my life completely.
Just releasing emotions not expressing myself,
I've written stories before and music didn't like it quite well,
stories for me have to be long and music I'd rather sing then
write it down, I've always sang actually
I got introduced to it by one of my friends, she read me one of her poems
and I got inspired but didn't write anything down, from then on
I would go to this website called quizilla that had many poems as she told me
Then I was taking a shower and a poem came to me, when
I went to write it down it no longer was a poem, and was ruined it wasn't
how I wanted it in my eyes, the thought came too soon,
but I didn't give up on it, I posted up the poem and from then on
I just kept on writing...usually it's my observations and how I am feeling not
much expressing myself though
And sorry for this being so long, what about yourself?
And before I also did drawings gave up on that( was actually really good at it)..
now it's poems and video editing
Personally, I write poetry because it's a creative way to express myself. Stories takes too long for me to write and I find music to be really difficult to write. Being a writer, I find poetry to be easy and quick to write when I want to say what I need to say. For instance, during school, we had a literary magazine and I could either write a story or poem. I decided that I would write a poem about the Holocaust, since it's such a delicate subject and writing a story could be too long or I could word something that makes it sound insensitive. It ended up getting hugely praised and loved by everyone. But this is just my opinion.
I love poetry. Sometimes I read slowly just to savor the words the writer chose. I am a poet, but I am in a dry spell. I hear a line or two in my head, but I never sit and work with it. I'm hoping this will pass soon.
I love to feel the flow of words as if they are water streaming over a bed of rocks or the tide ebbing. I also enjoy the energy, when the words make my heart race. I connect to the emotions, and it is wonderful to read someones work that touches me, brings tears or laughter, or stays in my mind.
One of my poems "TO:" is on the internet and has been translated into several languages because it reaches people, and that brings joy to me.
.
I was a painter - mixed media - much graphite as well. I worked on my art for most of my life, obtained advanced degrees etc.
My art was catharsis for me and when an illness and medications robbed me of my thoughts and steady hand, I was desolate.
I had no way to express myself.
Then I found this section and began learning that I could use the words in my head to express memories, emotions, epiphanies.
I am not skilled - but it fills that overbearing void of losing my art.
Poetry is not my vocation - but for me, I can try to learn from others who do have that.
And it helps.
Many eons ago,i used to write letters to the editor.Everyone said they were good.
then i had a security job,sitting and boring.I can draw. Also.I started getting mad
at all the news i read or saw.It was when rap was starting.three people asked me to write some.
I did and they read them during some poetry nights.Darned if i would.I saved a lot.
Sometimes just tone them DOWN..for here. .thanks
When I began it was a case of being inspired by different writers and trying to emulate them I did not have my own voice I was imitation Emily Dickenson for example. As time went by I developed my style.
I try to take an experience and boil it down to the essence so that if I use the word I in my poem the reader thinks of himself .
I write poetry because I love the way it seem to fill my heart when I read it. I can not place my poetry to music in my head. I chose poetry in short because it makes me feel good to express the beauty of the world around me, and let my heart choose the rhythm and music:)
I enjoy writing, in whatever sense, and have been writing since I learned how.
Poetry is an intimate way to express.
Poetry is or can be, like pouring fluid
Poetry can involve all our senses
I just way enjoy readin it and writin it.
Expression is art :) Poetry is not just an art of words though; it's also the art of how we use words.
Because somebody has to do it. *pulls sunglasses down and walks into the sunset*
Simply to tell a story that I hope readers will enjoy. Nothing more, nothing less.
music is poetry, and that's what i write
It is cathartic therapy. Can't you see how well its worked?
Because is the language of the heart.
Can you please honestly rate my songwriting skills? Aspiring songwriter! Need opinions!?
-No kings, Only Me is the songs name. Rate out of 10 with 10 being the BEST! Enjoy :)
Not thinking who i am
Wearing whatever i want
Anything goes on whatever i find
Who cares nows my time to shine
I dont care what you have to say
gonna be who i was always before
Never will you speak up for me
Ill always be me thats for sure
Nope im not trendy
Proudly away from the crowd
I dont dress all preppy
Im just living in the future tense forward
Glam kings on unicorn motorcycles
Im sure this wont pass your fashion trials
Who the damn cares what goes now days
Yesterday was just another day like today
But when tomorrow comes the cycles done
The trials are destroyed and the fun's to begin
I dont care what you have to say
gonna be who i was always before
Never will you speak up for me
Ill always be me thats for sure
Nope im not trendy
Proudly away from the crowd
I dont dress all preppy
Im just living in the future tense forward
I don't wanna copy what he wears
In all honesty whats his i don't care
I'm not a follower
I'm a trendsetter
A fast forward thinker
Thinking about the future
Your like a king everyone wants to be
You got the swag you talk all slang
I speak proper with a clean tongue
Understand me or get a dictionary
With all your soldiers coming with a bang
There all trained to just be like you
Just like some wannabe dude
Only to you they listen because your the king
Nope im not trendy
Proudly away from the crowd
I dont dress all preppy
Im just living in the future tense forward
Fast forward to the future
changing minds and culture
Fast forward to the future
Dethroning the kings
Fast forward to the future
Being the king of kingsI'll give it a 7/10.
It's very repetitive.5.5, it was good, I just think your song needs more variety.
Not thinking who i am
Wearing whatever i want
Anything goes on whatever i find
Who cares nows my time to shine
I dont care what you have to say
gonna be who i was always before
Never will you speak up for me
Ill always be me thats for sure
Nope im not trendy
Proudly away from the crowd
I dont dress all preppy
Im just living in the future tense forward
Glam kings on unicorn motorcycles
Im sure this wont pass your fashion trials
Who the damn cares what goes now days
Yesterday was just another day like today
But when tomorrow comes the cycles done
The trials are destroyed and the fun's to begin
I dont care what you have to say
gonna be who i was always before
Never will you speak up for me
Ill always be me thats for sure
Nope im not trendy
Proudly away from the crowd
I dont dress all preppy
Im just living in the future tense forward
I don't wanna copy what he wears
In all honesty whats his i don't care
I'm not a follower
I'm a trendsetter
A fast forward thinker
Thinking about the future
Your like a king everyone wants to be
You got the swag you talk all slang
I speak proper with a clean tongue
Understand me or get a dictionary
With all your soldiers coming with a bang
There all trained to just be like you
Just like some wannabe dude
Only to you they listen because your the king
Nope im not trendy
Proudly away from the crowd
I dont dress all preppy
Im just living in the future tense forward
Fast forward to the future
changing minds and culture
Fast forward to the future
Dethroning the kings
Fast forward to the future
Being the king of kingsI'll give it a 7/10.
It's very repetitive.5.5, it was good, I just think your song needs more variety.
I have a poem that I need to understand and evaluate...will anyone help? plz?
-And If You Should Leave Me By Ben Okri
And if you should leave me
I would say that the ghost
Of Cassandra
Has passed through
My eyes
I would say that the stars
In their malice
Merely light up the sky
To stretch my torment
And that the waves crash
On the shores
To bring salt-stings on
My face:
For you re-connect me with
All the lights of the sky
And the salt of the waves
And the myths in the air.
And with your passing
The evening would become too dark To dream in
And the morning Too bright.
CAN I PLZ GIVE MY EMAIl ADDRESS SO I CAN GET HELP? I need to find out the tone structure and figurative language for it
And if you should leave me
I would say that the ghost
Of Cassandra
Has passed through
My eyes
I would say that the stars
In their malice
Merely light up the sky
To stretch my torment
And that the waves crash
On the shores
To bring salt-stings on
My face:
For you re-connect me with
All the lights of the sky
And the salt of the waves
And the myths in the air.
And with your passing
The evening would become too dark To dream in
And the morning Too bright.
CAN I PLZ GIVE MY EMAIl ADDRESS SO I CAN GET HELP? I need to find out the tone structure and figurative language for it
Poem about Domestic Abuse - What do you think?
-Hey
So it's not finished yet and it's not that good
But what's your opinion anyways? :)
Once a day and once a night,
The man who shares his blight in spite,
Fight,
You play a knight,
Deceiving to the innocent's sight,
My death warrant you write it,
Sign it and seal it,
Reveal it,
Your heart made of Ironite,
You're my ******* kryptonite,
Bleed it,
Breathe it,
Your tongue; you've never bitten it,
My day; you never brighten it,
You made your bed so sleep in it,
The boat you keel it,
Free it,
Free your hatred somewhere else,
Who can love the man who kills?
Even when the heat does still,
My heart no longer fills,
There is no love and only hate,
You chose your fate,
You chose your fate,
Paranoid,
Stupid boy,
Just 'cause she's the perfect puppet toy,
Daddy's girl,
You make my toes curl,
That rock you hurl,
**** you, girl
But still,
My heart it doesn't fill,
I only ever want to kill,
Blood,
I feel it bead in tiny buds,
Blood,
Blood,
I want the floor to flood,
Sad,
Bad,
You're the one who's mad,
You're not my Dad,
You're undeserving,
You say she's starving,
The presence of you; it's so unnerving,
Biased,
Liars,
Only after your own desires,
Pliers,
Your hands chopped off with the rusty pliers,
Wires,
Electrocuted when hands touch wires,
I want you dead,
Daddy's girl to find you in your bed,
Not even breathing,
Just please be leaving,
You're evil,
Just plain deceitful,
She gave me a mouthful,
A fistful,
Your existence makes it risk-full,
All yours words are bull,
I always feel like a fool,
Hopeful,
Never hopeful,
Until you die,
I won't be hopeful,
In the end though,
It wasn't enough,
Even after I burned all of your stuff,
My stomach churned,
Into you; everything turned,
I hope you burn; I hope you rot,
After all of the hatred you showed and taught,
I scream a lot,
There is no one to tame these thoughts,
My worst nightmare,
Created to scare,
Tear,
Tear me apart,
And I stare,
Into your darkened lair,
I don't want to become you,
If I do; that day I'll rueI think you should get this published, it's amazing! :DI think is good. : )
So it's not finished yet and it's not that good
But what's your opinion anyways? :)
Once a day and once a night,
The man who shares his blight in spite,
Fight,
You play a knight,
Deceiving to the innocent's sight,
My death warrant you write it,
Sign it and seal it,
Reveal it,
Your heart made of Ironite,
You're my ******* kryptonite,
Bleed it,
Breathe it,
Your tongue; you've never bitten it,
My day; you never brighten it,
You made your bed so sleep in it,
The boat you keel it,
Free it,
Free your hatred somewhere else,
Who can love the man who kills?
Even when the heat does still,
My heart no longer fills,
There is no love and only hate,
You chose your fate,
You chose your fate,
Paranoid,
Stupid boy,
Just 'cause she's the perfect puppet toy,
Daddy's girl,
You make my toes curl,
That rock you hurl,
**** you, girl
But still,
My heart it doesn't fill,
I only ever want to kill,
Blood,
I feel it bead in tiny buds,
Blood,
Blood,
I want the floor to flood,
Sad,
Bad,
You're the one who's mad,
You're not my Dad,
You're undeserving,
You say she's starving,
The presence of you; it's so unnerving,
Biased,
Liars,
Only after your own desires,
Pliers,
Your hands chopped off with the rusty pliers,
Wires,
Electrocuted when hands touch wires,
I want you dead,
Daddy's girl to find you in your bed,
Not even breathing,
Just please be leaving,
You're evil,
Just plain deceitful,
She gave me a mouthful,
A fistful,
Your existence makes it risk-full,
All yours words are bull,
I always feel like a fool,
Hopeful,
Never hopeful,
Until you die,
I won't be hopeful,
In the end though,
It wasn't enough,
Even after I burned all of your stuff,
My stomach churned,
Into you; everything turned,
I hope you burn; I hope you rot,
After all of the hatred you showed and taught,
I scream a lot,
There is no one to tame these thoughts,
My worst nightmare,
Created to scare,
Tear,
Tear me apart,
And I stare,
Into your darkened lair,
I don't want to become you,
If I do; that day I'll rueI think you should get this published, it's amazing! :DI think is good. : )
I have a poem that I need to understand and evaluate...will anyone help? plz?
-And If You Should Leave Me By Ben Okri
And if you should leave me
I would say that the ghost
Of Cassandra
Has passed through
My eyes
I would say that the stars
In their malice
Merely light up the sky
To stretch my torment
And that the waves crash
On the shores
To bring salt-stings on
My face:
For you re-connect me with
All the lights of the sky
And the salt of the waves
And the myths in the air.
And with your passing
The evening would become too dark To dream in
And the morning Too bright.
CAN I PLZ GIVE MY EMAIl ADDRESS SO I CAN GET HELP? I need to find out the tone structure and figurative language for it
And if you should leave me
I would say that the ghost
Of Cassandra
Has passed through
My eyes
I would say that the stars
In their malice
Merely light up the sky
To stretch my torment
And that the waves crash
On the shores
To bring salt-stings on
My face:
For you re-connect me with
All the lights of the sky
And the salt of the waves
And the myths in the air.
And with your passing
The evening would become too dark To dream in
And the morning Too bright.
CAN I PLZ GIVE MY EMAIl ADDRESS SO I CAN GET HELP? I need to find out the tone structure and figurative language for it
Desert Places by Robert Frost?
-How does the Robert Frost poem, Desert Places show self discovery? What it is the meaning or message of the poem?
Thank you :)The writer discovers that the loneliness outside himself in a snowy evening surrounded by trees is nothing compared to the loneliness inside of him. That's why he says "they cannot scare me with their empty spaces/Between stars..." His desert spaces are inside of him, so wide and empty like the desert.Hard to say....where is the poem?
Thank you :)The writer discovers that the loneliness outside himself in a snowy evening surrounded by trees is nothing compared to the loneliness inside of him. That's why he says "they cannot scare me with their empty spaces/Between stars..." His desert spaces are inside of him, so wide and empty like the desert.Hard to say....where is the poem?
Bad Luck---------------?
-Like a torment that comes and goes
my heart, pulverized by hatred
will it ever be reborn?
What is it that I truly want?
What is it that I need to know?
Will I ever feel joy? (again)
Torments come and go
she's just a ghost now
and I want to love someone elseCool, twas a poem? Twas good. :)
my heart, pulverized by hatred
will it ever be reborn?
What is it that I truly want?
What is it that I need to know?
Will I ever feel joy? (again)
Torments come and go
she's just a ghost now
and I want to love someone elseCool, twas a poem? Twas good. :)
I'm not sure about this, can you pretty please comment and give me some feedback?
-Fallow
Lovely green hills,
And shinning pastures
With ribbons of radiant colors
And many months
And seasons.
They all seem so wonderful,
And all so unique,
With each one possessing
An intoxicating radiance,
An overwhelming presence,
Of grace and beauty.
It provides us with comfort,
And quiet joy,
Where we can submit to
Ultimate confession
And respite.
Yet the trees seem bare,
Emotionless,
Too clutched in their web of despair
To show their thoughts or conceit.
The meadows all bare
Delightful fruits and offers
A much bountiful crop;
Though the destruction
Of mortal pursuit
Leaves the land fallow
In heart and spirit.
Listen to the silence
And smell the breezes.
Do they not provide you
With a sense of sadness,
A sense of humility?
When shall these beings
Of venal character
Who extinguish all life,
Close in conclusion
Of their blunders?
When will these beings
Of venal character,
Who extinguish all life,
Cease to mar the perfection,
Of these lovely green hills
And shinning pastures?
What do you think of it? I'm kinda new at poetry and stuff and I'm not that good at it yet, so feedback would be really helpful!!!!!!sometimes in poetry it is better to wieve in the good and the bad together rather then going staight from good to bad let it pour from the heart but i think your poem is lovely and to say your just starting you should be proud of yourself there are no strikct rite or wrongs with poetry you really have just got to let it pour from the heart x
don't say your not good! that's calling my poems awful xD your poem is amazing and really captures ones attention. I can not believe you are new to this! Really well done! I am envious, you have a lot of talent! Please keep writing! :D
Lovely green hills,
And shinning pastures
With ribbons of radiant colors
And many months
And seasons.
They all seem so wonderful,
And all so unique,
With each one possessing
An intoxicating radiance,
An overwhelming presence,
Of grace and beauty.
It provides us with comfort,
And quiet joy,
Where we can submit to
Ultimate confession
And respite.
Yet the trees seem bare,
Emotionless,
Too clutched in their web of despair
To show their thoughts or conceit.
The meadows all bare
Delightful fruits and offers
A much bountiful crop;
Though the destruction
Of mortal pursuit
Leaves the land fallow
In heart and spirit.
Listen to the silence
And smell the breezes.
Do they not provide you
With a sense of sadness,
A sense of humility?
When shall these beings
Of venal character
Who extinguish all life,
Close in conclusion
Of their blunders?
When will these beings
Of venal character,
Who extinguish all life,
Cease to mar the perfection,
Of these lovely green hills
And shinning pastures?
What do you think of it? I'm kinda new at poetry and stuff and I'm not that good at it yet, so feedback would be really helpful!!!!!!sometimes in poetry it is better to wieve in the good and the bad together rather then going staight from good to bad let it pour from the heart but i think your poem is lovely and to say your just starting you should be proud of yourself there are no strikct rite or wrongs with poetry you really have just got to let it pour from the heart x
don't say your not good! that's calling my poems awful xD your poem is amazing and really captures ones attention. I can not believe you are new to this! Really well done! I am envious, you have a lot of talent! Please keep writing! :D
How is the river described by the poets in poem river when it is dried up and when it is flooded?
-The question is confusing.
I would describe a flooded river as an overly indulged floppy sponge. The dried river would be the same sponge but hard, brittle, little and dry.
I would describe a flooded river as an overly indulged floppy sponge. The dried river would be the same sponge but hard, brittle, little and dry.
Can you please have a read of my poem and see what you think?
-Golden Mean
Golden mean, Golden sneers, Golden spits
Golden child takes all and Golden hits
'til child sleeps and screams in Golden fits
while new born baby sucks Golden t'ts
tossing dreams into deep Golden pits
and watches hungry through Golden slits
as father tears lives to Golden bits
Go now and run child while Golden sits
'cause you will die before Golden quits
What are your thoughts? Feedback? I might put some of my others up if you think that's a good idea. In the (golden) mean time, what did you think of it? Any good?Needs work.
It could use a little more work.
Not to be harsh
its very good, could you put some more up
Golden mean, Golden sneers, Golden spits
Golden child takes all and Golden hits
'til child sleeps and screams in Golden fits
while new born baby sucks Golden t'ts
tossing dreams into deep Golden pits
and watches hungry through Golden slits
as father tears lives to Golden bits
Go now and run child while Golden sits
'cause you will die before Golden quits
What are your thoughts? Feedback? I might put some of my others up if you think that's a good idea. In the (golden) mean time, what did you think of it? Any good?Needs work.
It could use a little more work.
Not to be harsh
its very good, could you put some more up
2011年8月3日星期三
Wdyt of the poem i just wrote?
---So close, yet, so far
Ain't it bizarre
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Unspoken commitment
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman,
She's now Mrs. Truman--
Please just constructive criticism...if your gonna be a jerk just move on.That's marvelous the way you have constructed it! Maybe extend the middle a little but other then that its tremendous! I promise I will give thumbs down to any bad comments :). Good work!
Diamonds answer is terrific :)It's good...maybe you could add some words that can help me visualize the proposal actually happening..like describing the guy getting on one bended knee and the woman's hand shaking and her crying and being a nervous emotional wreck......you know stuff like that....proposals are really intense and most girls dream of this moment...and most guys are scared of this moment because of the rejection factor.
REALLY REALL GOOD. I am a upcoming rapper, and i like the use of metaphors and the vOcab was amazing. 9/10
PLEASE ANSWER MINE, ITS ABOUT RAP/POETRY
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhnR8n.wdV0JO5AqEdFQaCMM_dw4;_ylv=3?qid=20110710031520AAljuRa
If you are asking if it's a good high school English class poem, heck yes it is!
If you're asking if it's any good compared to actual poetry, not even close.
sounds like a song and good job
I have to say it's quite original but you might want to look over the second line in the first stanza.
Ain't it bizarre
Both unsuspecting
Subconsciously connecting
Until that moment
Unspoken commitment
He takes her by the hand
And places the silver band
Her eyes twinkling
Insides are cheering
Feeling superhuman,
She's now Mrs. Truman--
Please just constructive criticism...if your gonna be a jerk just move on.That's marvelous the way you have constructed it! Maybe extend the middle a little but other then that its tremendous! I promise I will give thumbs down to any bad comments :). Good work!
Diamonds answer is terrific :)It's good...maybe you could add some words that can help me visualize the proposal actually happening..like describing the guy getting on one bended knee and the woman's hand shaking and her crying and being a nervous emotional wreck......you know stuff like that....proposals are really intense and most girls dream of this moment...and most guys are scared of this moment because of the rejection factor.
REALLY REALL GOOD. I am a upcoming rapper, and i like the use of metaphors and the vOcab was amazing. 9/10
PLEASE ANSWER MINE, ITS ABOUT RAP/POETRY
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhnR8n.wdV0JO5AqEdFQaCMM_dw4;_ylv=3?qid=20110710031520AAljuRa
If you are asking if it's a good high school English class poem, heck yes it is!
If you're asking if it's any good compared to actual poetry, not even close.
sounds like a song and good job
I have to say it's quite original but you might want to look over the second line in the first stanza.
"I Sing The...." latter day hippie and the latter day judge, latter day angel, and the trudge to a poetry barn?
-Three lights bounce merrily along a morning path.
One is evidence of hastiness,
one smells the front porch pipe,
the last tastes the apple pie verily
12 times too much.
Now they're all here once more,
merry cheeks a'blazin,
serving up, sloshing, tale telling
ale, with laughter, merriment verily
12 times not enough.
( and they say Good Morning to You! Welcome in! )I thought this was bouncy, and not everything you share with us is drudge. I kinda agree with Ben about a holiday, but what I felt more was like a town 200 years ago.Good morning to you too! Smells like Christmas where you are!
Three lawyers? good poem, hey.
hey I read anothe rby you I like the way it is done
One is evidence of hastiness,
one smells the front porch pipe,
the last tastes the apple pie verily
12 times too much.
Now they're all here once more,
merry cheeks a'blazin,
serving up, sloshing, tale telling
ale, with laughter, merriment verily
12 times not enough.
( and they say Good Morning to You! Welcome in! )I thought this was bouncy, and not everything you share with us is drudge. I kinda agree with Ben about a holiday, but what I felt more was like a town 200 years ago.Good morning to you too! Smells like Christmas where you are!
Three lawyers? good poem, hey.
hey I read anothe rby you I like the way it is done
What do you think of this?
-It's not a poem and I didn't write it, lol. The original writer just wants opinions and a rating of 1-10 on it. She and her friend wrote this. I think it's pretty creative with a good choice of word play that somewhat makes alittle sense and they didn't give it a title.
(I personally give it a 7.) as I told her she should share, so she now wants it to be rated. lol.
The skies are pale blue, the grass flows free.
The wind blows soft and the mermaids roam the sea.
Such a fantasy, such a fake.
But if you imagine, it's yours to take.
Dream up a world, one you can control.
Don't get carried away, try to keep hold.
In your mind, you let your brush paint a picture, slow, there's no rush.
In your world, time stands still.
More then enough so your picture can fulfil.
Your train of thoughts will never end, more and more of the pretend.
You use it all to the max, going down different tracks.
You go one way, then you travel another.
It's so hard to choose when you're the creator.
Paint the past, paint the present, create your future, it's all in your hands.I Give it a 1. It's corny and poorly written.
To the good Its not a OMG My BF/GF is wonderful/ terrible type poem that is so typical of this site. It is
a thoughtful and somewhat entertaining piece.
Now to the Negative Control/hold does not really work
The following line while it has good interior rhyme can't be broken into two lines anywhere and as a result just stands out
You need a line break between end and more
another and creator don't rhyme at all and the last line rhymes with nothing.
Tell her to keep trying
When I started some of my work was awful ie. instead of saying I smile in one early poem I put
a smile comes upon my face. yeech.
Rating 5
(I personally give it a 7.) as I told her she should share, so she now wants it to be rated. lol.
The skies are pale blue, the grass flows free.
The wind blows soft and the mermaids roam the sea.
Such a fantasy, such a fake.
But if you imagine, it's yours to take.
Dream up a world, one you can control.
Don't get carried away, try to keep hold.
In your mind, you let your brush paint a picture, slow, there's no rush.
In your world, time stands still.
More then enough so your picture can fulfil.
Your train of thoughts will never end, more and more of the pretend.
You use it all to the max, going down different tracks.
You go one way, then you travel another.
It's so hard to choose when you're the creator.
Paint the past, paint the present, create your future, it's all in your hands.I Give it a 1. It's corny and poorly written.
To the good Its not a OMG My BF/GF is wonderful/ terrible type poem that is so typical of this site. It is
a thoughtful and somewhat entertaining piece.
Now to the Negative Control/hold does not really work
The following line while it has good interior rhyme can't be broken into two lines anywhere and as a result just stands out
You need a line break between end and more
another and creator don't rhyme at all and the last line rhymes with nothing.
Tell her to keep trying
When I started some of my work was awful ie. instead of saying I smile in one early poem I put
a smile comes upon my face. yeech.
Rating 5
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